


Lies

by Nightfall24



Series: Strange Desire [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Dark, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dark Sherlock, Disturbing Themes, Dry Humping, Dubious Consent, Grinding, Kidnapped John, Kidnapping, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Obsessive Behavior, Online Friendship, Online Pedophilia, Online Relationship, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pedophilia, Phone Sex, Possessive Sherlock, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Coercion, Teen John, Teen John Watson, Verging on, Voyeurism, WIP, because John is a minor, disturbing behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-13 05:01:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1213660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightfall24/pseuds/Nightfall24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is an average fourteen year old student who starts chatting online with a teen named Footballer17. He is so excited an older boy likes him that he doesn't catch the signs he is being coerced by an online predator.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Lonely Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [谎言](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1379851) by [mizugane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizugane/pseuds/mizugane)
  * Translation into 中文 available: [Lies 谎言](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10492584) by [Eurica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eurica/pseuds/Eurica)



> Hello everyone,
> 
> This is extremely dark and if you are easily triggered or upset by online predators, I suggest you do not read this story. 
> 
> Like my other fic The Wolf of 221B's chapters were named after Peter Gabriel songs, I will be naming all of these chapters after Black Key's songs. Again, I don't know why, it's just something I like to do(:
> 
> This is going to be a slow build, I'm thinking around ten chapters, and I will be switching back and forth between Sherlock and John's POV every chapter. 
> 
> This is my first dark fic, so I would love to hear feedback(: Please enjoy.

Chapter 1 - Lonely Boy

**Goalie2000: Hey Mike u on?**

**MikeAttack: That u John?**

**Goalie2000: Yep, just got done with hmwk. This new chat room is dench, mate!**

**MikeAttack: I know right. Hey, did u see the way Toby was looking at you 2day after practice? He was well into you, yeah?**

**Goalie2000: Bugger off no he wasn’t**

**MikeAttack: Srry mate, g2g. I’ll c u tomorrow at school**

**Goalie2000: K, ttyl**

John closed the small screen, which displayed Mike’s ended chat. Looking over the list of names, he decided they were either creepy old men trying to hit on kids or dull middle schoolers. He was fourteen after all and there was no way he was going to chat with a bunch of twelve year olds. Before he could close the whole browser though, an incoming private message popped up. “Footballer17?” John looked at the clock, “I’s only eleven, can’t hurt.”

**Goalie2000: Watz up footballer?**

**Footballer17: nm just chillin. U?**

**Goalie2000: Same, so what position do you play?**

**Footballer17: Sweeper, u play goalie I presume?**

**Goalie2000: Good guess, lol. U guys r supposed to protect me, yeah?**

**Footballer17: I always protect my goalie :D Wats ur ASL?**

John frowned, “ASL, what the bloody hell does that mean?” Not wanting to look stupid, he pulled up a second tab to search for what this guy was asking him. Another ding from his computer,

 **Footballer17: Ur new to this aren’t you? Srry, wats ur age/sex/location? I’m 17, male, London**.

Already embarrassed, he thought it best to play it cool so the older kid didn’t think he was more of a loser than he already was.

**Goalie2000: O yea, I knew that, lol. I’m 14, male, Southampton.**

**Footballer17: Cool. So u have a gf?**

**Goalie2000: Naw, gurls r 2 annoying.**

**Footballer17: Lol. I agree…so do u have a bf?**

**Goalie2000: No, not yet. Most of the guys I know are str8 anyway.**

**Goalie2000: Do u have a bf?**

**Footballer17: Just got out of a bad relationship. Dude was a total wanker.**

**Goalie2000: Damn, that sux**

John looked at the clock again, “fuck, almost midnight, sorry footballer I have school in the morning,” yawning he typed his goodbye.

**Goalie2000: It’s a bit late. I think I’m gonna pack it in. Nice talking to ya footballer.**

**Footballer17: Wait, do u think u’ll b back on 2morrow? U seem pretty cool for a 14yo (:**

John grinned, blushing at the complement from a seventeen year old, knowing the bloke was just trying to be nice.

**Goalie2000: Arsehole. Lol. Yea, I can get back on tomorrow after school.**

**Footballer17: Awesome! 020-7383-3432. My cell, text me if u feel like it**

John’s eyes widened looking at the phone number. He bit his lip deciding whether he should give his. This was the first cool guy to take an interest in him and he wasn’t about to screw it up because he was paranoid by the news and that Dateline Show.  

**Goalie2000: cool! Mine’s 02-3802-3364. I’ll ttyl (:**

With that, John logged off the chat room and closed his laptop, a giant grin on his face. Grabbing his mobile off the desk, he started to type in the boy’s phone number. Before he could finish, however, a text message popped up labeled ‘unknown.’ Sure enough, when John opened the message it was footballer’s number.

**020-7383-3432: Ur 2 slow at texting, so I thought I’d give u a hand(:**

John laughed, trying to wipe the blush of his face, knowing he was being stupid for getting so worked up by a bloke he had only chatted with for an hour. John typed back.

**John: I was trying to figure out what name I should put for u**

**020-7383-3432: The name’s Sherlock and what may a call u Goalie. Lol.**

He quickly typed in the name Sherlock under the number. Without hesitating John replied with his name.

**John: Well it’s not as dench as Sherlock, but my name’s John(:**

**Sherlock: ‘Dench’ wat kind of word is that?**

**John: It means cool, come on old man get with the times**

**Sherlock: Aren’t u supposed to b in bed now, little boy**

**John: Yes, father (: GN mate, I’ll ttyl**

**Sherlock: Goodnight John**

The next morning, while John was eating breakfast before school, his phone buzzed in his pocket _._ A warm feeling blossomed in his belly, hoping it was Sherlock. He pulled out his cell, excited to see ‘Sherlock’ displayed informing him he had a new text.

**Sherlock: Good morning (:**

**John: Morning, r u on ur way to school?**

**Sherlock: Yep, just wanted to say hi b4 I am forced to sit through torture**

“Who are you talking to John,” came his mother’s voice from across the table. He laid his phone down, shoving a big piece of toast in his mouth and standing up to put his dish away.

“Just a mate from school, I’ll see you later mum,” he gave his mother a quick peck on the cheek, then was out the door, digging for his phone again.

**John: Lol, I know wat u mean. HS is a right bugger sometimes.**

**Sherlock: Do u have football practice after school?**

**John: Not 2day, but we have tryouts for the team 2morrow**

**Sherlock: I bet ur good, I know u’ll make it**

**John: I hope so but freshmen don’t usually make varsity**

**Sherlock: Nonsense, I know ur better than all those morons out there**

“Hey, John come on, we’re gonna be late,” John looked up from his phone to realize he had walked all the way to school while texting.

“Yeah, coming, give me a tick,” John yelled, typing frantically on his mobile.

**John: At school, I’ll ttyl. Try not to die of boredom(:**

**Sherlock: How can I die of boredom when I’ll b thinking of u?**

“This guy can’t be serious, can he?” John whispered to himself, not sure how to respond to the older boy’s text. Finally, he decided cheeky sarcasm would be the best way to go and finished typing as he ran towards Mike.

**John: Glad I can b of assistance :D**

With that, John shoved his mobile in his pocket, trying to forget about Footballer17. “You okay, mate? You look a right mess,” Mike slapped his shorter friend on the back as they walked into class.

“Yeah, just a bit distracted I guess.”

“Well don’t get to distracted, yeah. We’ve got tryouts in a couple of days,” they both sat down and prepared for a long day of boring.

It wasn't until lunch when John discreetly checked his phone, almost bouncing in excitement when he saw there were four unread texts.

**Sherlock: I’m so bored!**

**Sherlock: Y must these ppl torture me!**

**Sherlock: R U at lunch?**

**Sherlock: I’m SO BORED!**

John just laughed at his new friends short attention span when he noticed the texts only came within five minutes of each other.

**John: At lunch now. Wat r u doing?**

**Sherlock: Dying slowly(: It’s good to know u haven’t died yet**

**John: Nope but close**

**Sherlock: What r u eating?**

**John: Mum packed me a sandwich, u?**

**Sherlock: Ugh, lucky git. I’m forced to eat this slop they call food**

John laughed again, realizing how much he actually enjoyed talking to this bloke. He normally wasn’t a people person but he really seemed to connect with Sherlock.

**Sherlock: What r u wearing?**

**John: Just boring old jeans and blue striped jumper, u?**

**Sherlock: My robe and silk pajama pants**

**John: U liar! Lol.**

**Sherlock: I wish I were though(:**

**John: I wish we went to the same school**

There was a long pause, enough for John to finish the rest of his sandwich, and he began to worry he had scared the only older bloke that had ever been nice to him. Relief washed over him when he heard the familiar ‘ding’ come from his mobile.

**Sherlock: Me too**

**John: I’ve g2g, lunch is over ): I’ll tty 2nite?**

**Sherlock: Can’t wait(:**

As soon as John got home, he ran up the stairs to start his homework and talk to Sherlock. To his amazement, his new friend was a genius and helped him get his lessons done in record time. However, after three rapid texts during dinner, his mother told him to put the phone away, so John couldn’t talk to the teen until he was done and lying on his bed in his room.

**John: Srry bout that. Mums. LOL**

**Sherlock: I know exactly what u mean.  No worries(:**

**John: U done with ur hmwk. I won’t b much help unless it’s bio though**

**Sherlock: TY but all done. What r u doing now?**

**John: Lying on my bed, flipping through a mag, u?**

**Sherlock: Wanking(;**

John’s face turned bright red, unsure if Sherlock was serious or just messing with him. Then, another text came.

**Sherlock: Do u wank a lot?**

**John: Umm, yeah I guess. Y?**

He didn't realize until the next text that for some reason his pants started to get a bit tighter at the thought of Sherlock wanking.

**Sherlock: I do it all the time. Ur a bit young to understand but when u get to b older it’s all u’ll want to do(:**

“What the fuck does that mean!?” John whispered, angry and determined to prove he was old enough keep up with the seventeen year old. He did get hard a lot during school but he was usually able to hide them or calm himself down until he got home.

**John: I already do. I wank at least once a day sometimes twice**

**Sherlock: But u r’nt doing it right now**

His filling member decided for him, and John put his hand under the elastic of his pants, slowly rolling his balls as they tightened up.

**John: Am now(;**

**Sherlock: What r u thinking about?**

The fourteen year old was so caught up in stroking himself he hadn’t realized his phone buzzed with another text until a second one came.

**Sherlock: That good huh? LOL. I’m thinking of u(;**

His youth, inexperience, and the fact an older boy was thinking about him while jerking off made John shoot off like a rocket. “Holy fuck!” He groaned looking down at the light white come all over his shirt, “damn it.”

**John: Damn it! U made me ruin my shirt. LOL.**

**Sherlock: Will u forgive me if I ruin mine, too?**

**John: Yes, I think that’s only fair. How have u held out so long?**

There was a two minute hiatus between their texting, giving John enough time to throw his shirt in the basket and get a new one.

**Sherlock: Many more years of exp. Now I have to clean myself up. Thanks a lot :P**

**John: Glad to be of service once again. LOL.**

**Sherlock: I think it is time 4 u to go to bed**

John huffed, trying to be annoyed at another bloke telling him to go to bed but he was really just disappointed that he wouldn't get to talk to Sherlock anymore until tomorrow.

**John: Ok dad ):**

**Sherlock: Well someone has to keep an eye on u.**

**John: I am pretty worn out, no thanks 2 u. GN tty 2morrow**

**Sherlock: Goodnight John**

 

 


	2. The Desperate Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's POV continuing right after the first chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone,
> 
> As I said in the last chapter, this is a dark fic that deals with very upsetting issues. If this is triggery for you, then do not continue reading. I appreciate comments that are either positive or have constructive criticism, but there is no need to comment if all you want to say is, "this is horrible, what is wrong with you."
> 
> Sherlock is mentally unstable and a pedophile, I do not condone any type of pedophilia or child abuse, nor do I 'get off on it.' this is just a story that I came up with after watching a movie called 'Trust.'

Chapter 2 – The Desperate Man

Sherlock way lying on his bed panting hard, slowly stroking the come covered mobile sitting atop his chest. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as pictures of his John passed through his mind. The boy’s face wasn’t too hard to find, what with Facebook and his football photos posted everywhere online, Sherlock had already printed out five pictures, placing them on his bed and by his computer. Exhausted from his orgasm, he fell asleep thinking about how he would draw the boy in far enough where John would give him everything, and Sherlock would not have to ask for any of it.

The next morning Sherlock woke up with a scowl on his face when the first thing he smelled was old come and sweat, but as soon as he remembered why, he grabbed his phone to see if his John was awake yet. He knew the boy had football tryouts today and he would either be the supportive shoulder to cry on if John didn’t make it or patting him on the back if he made the team. Either way, Sherlock would make sure to be a vital part in John’s big day.

**Sherlock: Big day 2day! U ready?**

Sherlock was sitting at his laptop using the tracking radar he had purchased to hone in on John’s mobile to see where the boy was. Already on his way to school, Sherlock grinned again letting pride wash over him that his John was a good student.

**John: Way nervous. But ready, I think(:**

**Sherlock: You will do awesome. I know it!**

**John: Thanks, I’m at school already. Wish me luck.**

**Sherlock: Good luck**

The worst part about the day was when John was at school and Lestrade had no cases for him. His mind began turning in on itself, attacking like a civil war was breaking out among his consciousness. To shut it off, he pulled up his favorite picture of the blonde boy, shimmied out of his trousers and started rubbing himself slowly. Filling his spastic mind up with pictures of himself over John, under him, spooning him, inside him, soaking up his innocent cries, and then in record time he came all over his hand groaning with a sated smile on his lips. His mind was calm.  

After a long bath and breakfast, it was time to check in on his John again. Sherlock almost fell out of his chair when he saw he had a missed text from the boy. The sheep had wondered into the wolf’s den all on its own. The man knew he had won.   

**John: Hey, you there?**

**Sherlock: Yea, wats up?**

**John: Nothing, just eating lunch. Getting really nervous though.**

**Sherlock: That’s normal. Just go out there and do ur best, yeah?**

**John: Thanks. I just wanted to talk to u b4 tryouts. They r at 3 so I’ll text u after.**

**Sherlock: U can do it. Good luck.**

Sherlock had gone back and forth debating whether or not he should go to John’s tryouts. Of course he knew where they were being held and his faith in his covert abilities was unwavering but he wanted to wait. The first time he saw the boy in person, he didn’t want to hide, didn’t want to feel like there was something wrong with what he was doing.

At two o’clock, an hour after Sherlock had decided to stab three different types of pillows to measure the amount of feathers that came out, Lestrade texted him about a murder. “Oh thank God,” The detective sighed, throwing on his coat and grabbing his mobile just in case his boy needed him again. He would go to the crime scene, solve the Yards petty murder for them and be back in time for John to tell him all about his practice. “Perfect!”

“Hey freak,” an annoyed voice yelled as Sherlock walked into a small building surrounded by yellow tape. Rolling his eyes but ignoring the jab, when normally he would comment about Donovan’s sexcapades the night before, he felt no need and walked past the officer, going to stand beside Lestrade.

“Glad you’re here Sherlock, this is a nasty one I’ll tell ya,” the grey haired man said, kneeling down by the victim. The play out of the murder was obvious to the consulting detective before Lestrade even started rattling off the case specifics. Bored already and wanting to get back to the only intriguing thing that could bring tranquility to his mind, Sherlock strode over to where the angry mistress had shoved the knife under the kitchen sink. Throwing open the cupboard, he revealed a pool of blood and a large steak knife behind the rubbish bin.

“Check the knife for prints, which belong to the victim’s husband’s mistress. Call me when you have a real case Lestrade, not these ridiculous Cluedo board games. I have more important things to do.” Sherlock added, as he walked out of the building and pulled out his phone.

“Like what?!” Lestrade yelled back, but the mysterious man was already getting into a cab. The DI scratched his head in confusion but knew Sherlock was always right, so he had the knife sent off for printing.

**Sherlock: So are you the new varsity goalie?!**

Sherlock texted as he strode up to 221B, plopping down in front of his laptop. John didn’t answer right away, so the detective pulled up the GPS to make sure everything was alright. The green dot that was his John’s mobile was still at the field. As time passed on and he still hadn’t heard from the boy, Sherlock became more and more agitated. He had nothing to do, nothing to stop the thoughts and ideas bouncing around in his head and it was eating him up from the inside. “Oh of course,” he finally said and pulled up a program called Photoshop on his computer.

He knew he would have to break it to his boy that he was not seventeen like his Footballer17 persona. However, there was no need to tell him his true age until they met, and they would meet, Sherlock promised to the darkest part of his chaotic mind. Pulling up a current picture of himself, Sherlock started adding a few airbrush effects, made his face a tad skinnier, his hair a bit longer, and once he was done, the picture was still him but he looked to be in his early twenties instead of early thirties. “That should do,” he smiled to himself.

**John: Guess what?!!**

The moment Sherlock checked the text, he knew his John had made it on the team. Of course he already knew this, his boy was the most exquisite creature on the face of the Earth, so how could he not succeed in some stupid football game.

**Sherlock: What?**

**John: Guess who’s the new goalie for the varsity team?**

**Sherlock: Who?**

**John: One John Hamish Watson!!**

A tooth filled grin creeped across the man’s face when he saw the boy had used his entire name. Sherlock had already known his full name, date of birth, and home address, but John didn’t know that; and now he trusted the man on the other side of the phone with this valuable information.  

**Sherlock: I knew u could do it! Congrats John!**

**John: Thanks! I can’t believe it.**

**Sherlock: I can. I told u ur better than all those morons out there**

**John: Phew, I’m at home now. Even varsity goalies have to do their hmwk. Lol**

_This is the time,_ Sherlock thought to himself. John was on an endorphin high right now and even finding out his new best friend wasn’t really seventeen couldn’t upset him.

**Sherlock: R u at ur computer?**

**John: Yea, y?**

He waited for the teen to log on to their private chat, then continued.

**Sherlock: I have something to tell u. I haven’t been quite honest with u.**

**John: What is it?**

**Sherlock: I’m actually a college student. I’m 22 yo.**

There was a long pause before he finally heard another text come.

**John: Y did u lie to me?**

**Sherlock: b/c I knew u were in HS and I didn’t want to come off as ‘telling u what to do’ when we talked about hmwk or football.**

**Sherlock: I’m sorry):**

Again, a long pause before John responded but Sherlock wasn’t worried. He had planned every piece to John Hamish Watson’s puzzle and there was no way his boy could refuse.

**John: It’s okay. I do appreciate u helping me with my hmwk. That math is a right bastard. LOL.**

**Sherlock: I knew u were cool. U wanna c my pic?**

**John: Yea! B nice to know who I’m talking 2(:**

Sherlock already had the photoshopped picture ready to go and uploaded it onto their chat screen.

**John: Wow, that’s u?!**

**Sherlock: Yep(: Am I ok?**

Drawing John out was easy because the teen was…well, a teenager who was already self-conscious about himself and sympathized with others who felt the same. He knew John would send a picture without Sherlock having to even ask.

**John: Totally, ur way cute(;**

**John: Give me a tick and I’ll take 1 of me and send it**

And there it was, another piece of John to collect in his mind palace. In the deepest cavern, past the skeletons and cobwebs where no light ever shown, that is where John would fall… and Sherlock would keep him.

**John: K, here u go. It’s with my webcam so it’s a bit rubbish.**

“No, not rubbish at all my dear John, beautiful,” Sherlock could feel is cock swell, whether from the new picture of his John or because he knew he had him.

**Sherlock: No, u r beautiful!**

He could just picture the blush coming across the blonde’s tan skin, just from a compliment.

**John: Thanks. Lol. Well, I g2g to dinner, so I’ll ttyl.**

**Sherlock: Congrats again varsity goalie(:**

**John: Thanks mate!**

Once Sherlock had printed the new picture John had sent him, he lay on his bed, holding it to his chest. Finally he came all over his chest again but he didn’t care, for his mind was no longer a maelstrom of chaos, John had calmed the waters and now he could sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading(: I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	3. All You Ever Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to John's POV directly after chapter two. John and Mike go to the Shopping Centre.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again,
> 
> Thank you for all of the kudos and comments, I really appreciate all the feedback. This fic is still dark and only getting darker, so I'm going to say this at the beginning of each fic...if your are easily offended or upset by pedophilia and online predators, please do not read this fic. 
> 
> Please enjoy(:

Chapter 3 – All You Ever Wanted

Sitting at the dinner table, John slowly ate the beans and toast his mother had made for him. His mind was at war with itself trying to let the day’s events sink in, not knowing how to feel or what to think. On one hand, he was the happiest he’d ever been after making the varsity team, knowing that now he would make more friends and maybe be considered one of the cool kids for the rest of his high school career. Then, Sherlock, who he already considered one of his closest friends, confessed that he was really twenty two years old. 

He was confused on why a college student, who was exceptionally handsome, would even want to talk to him, let alone call him beautiful, but also thrilled beyond belief that a college student would want to talk to him and call him beautiful. A small part in the back of his mind told him something was not right about this, but in the end John decided it was just his stupid teenage low self-esteem. Plus, he had seen 20 year olds hang out with 40 year olds before, so why couldn’t someone 14 hand out with a 22 year old. After he spooned the last bite of his meal into his mouth, the boy decided it would be childish to not stay friends with someone as nice as Sherlock just because of his age.

“Oh, Johnny I almost forgot! How did the tryouts go today?” His mother asked, excitement in her eyes. John, however, knew her enthusiasm wasn’t for him but instead it was based on her hoping he would make the team so she could brag to the other football moms that her son had made varsity. It didn’t bother him too much anymore though, he was trying to be proud of himself and now he knew at least one other person was really happy for him.

“Mmm,” John grunted in affirmative, “yeah, made first string goalie for varsity.”

“That is wonderful Johnny! I’m so pleased with you, goodness I need to call Bethany and let her know. I wonder how her boy did, what is his name, Mike?”

“Mike only made the freshman team. It sucks, I really wanted us to play together and he’s really good.”

“That’s good dear,” she said, already distracted from dialing on the home phone. “Clean up your plate and make sure to finish up your homework before bed. Wouldn’t want you to get kicked off the team because of bad grades, now would we?”

“Heaven forbid,” John muttered under his breath, putting his plate away and heading up to his room. He was upset that Sherlock had already gone to bed and they couldn’t talk more, but he understood how difficult it must be going to Uni; hell, he could barely get through High school. Pulling his books out, he planned on finishing his homework, but saw Mike was in the chat room.  

**Goalie2000: Hey Mike, how’s it going?**

**MikeAttack: Alright I guess, dad is pissed I didn’t make varsity**

**Goalie2000: Yea, mate that well sux. U totally should’ve made it**

**MikeAttack: No worries, congrats to u though! That’s awesome first string goalie**

**Goalie2000: Thanks!**

**MikeAttack: Hey, was gonna ask u who do u keep texting? U r on ur mobile all the bloody time.**

John paused, “I’m not talking to him all the time,” he whispered to the computer and rolled his eyes at Mike, who was probably just mad they weren't hanging at lunch anymore.

**Goalie2000: It’s some1 I met on here. His name’s Sherlock, he’s a right cool bloke.**

**MikeAttack: Cool, does he go to HS around here?**

He realized this was the first time he’d ever told somebody about the bloke he’d never even met and now he didn’t know how his friend would react to the fact John was talking to a college student. Mike was cool, but was no were near as mature as John and would most likely not understand, so the teen decided against telling his friend.

**Goalie2000: He lives in London, but he’s 17 and a sweeper on his varsity team. Pretty cool, yea?**

**MikeAttack: 17? And he wants to talk to u? Did u have to pay him :D**

**Goalie2000: Shut up! The blokes cool and a right genius. He helps me with Mrs. Flander’s math hmwk.**

**MikeAttack: U’ve been holding out on me! That stuff is about to kill me, ya know!**

**Goalie2000: I’ll help u 2morrow if u wanna come over. Maybe we can go to WestQuay b4 cuz I need to pick up some new cleats.**

**MikeAttack: Yeah, I’ll b over around 10. And congrats again Goalie!**

**Goalie2000: Thank. C u 2morrow**

It took John another hour to finish up all his homework, then he showered, kissed his mum goodnight, and crashed on his bed. He tried to fall asleep but for some reason he couldn’t get Sherlock’s praise and the photo he had sent to him out of his head. He loved the fact that he didn’t even have to ask for the photo, either, Sherlock just offered it up, because that’s what friends do. John convinced himself, but it was strange and to be honest a little scary that a bloke he hadn’t even met was taking up so much of his head space. The teen rolled over a couple of times, finally shaking off his confusion at his feelings and falling to sleep.

He woke up at nine to a ‘ding’ from his mobile. Excited to tell Sherlock he was going to pick out a new pair of cleats, John swung his feet out of bed and picked up the phone.

**Sherlock: Saturday!!**

**John: I know, right? I just got up. Going to the WestQuay shopping Centre today to pick up some new cleats for practice.**

**Sherlock: Awesome! U should look at some new clothes 2 now that ur gonna be a hot shot. Lol.**

**John: What does that mean?!**

**Sherlock: Well, u said u were wearing a jumper to school the other day and then when u sent me that pic u had on another jumper…really John?**

The boy laughed at the text as he was pulling a green and white striped jumper over his head. He decided it might be best to stop at one of the clothing stores, after all, the money he got for his birthday a month ago was really burning a hole in his pocket.

**John: Yea, yea, point taken(: Just put on my green jumper and now headed to the shopping Centre with Mike. Lol. I’ll text u later**

**Sherlock: Have fun! And pick out something sexy :D**

**John: Whatever. Lol.**

He tried to wipe the blush off his face, cursing himself for being so sensitive and bashful at a stupid work. “Sexy,” he said trying to make it sound cool as it rolled off his tongue. Running down the stairs, he found that Mike was already waiting outside with his mobile in hand and longboard under his feet. Before he could even get a bite to eat, John heard Mike’s text go to his phone and decided to forego the meal in favor of getting to the Centre before it got busy. “By mum, I’ll be home around four!” He yelled, grabbing his board and running outside to meet with his friend.

“’Bout time mate, ready?” Mike buckled his helmet and grinned, “wanna race?”

“You know I’m gonna beat you right, you really want to challenge the varsity goalie?” John laughed but was soon knocked off balance from his board. Mike had shoved him, then cheered and started pushing to pick up speed towards their destination. “Bastard,” the boy laughed, throwing on his helmet and pushing off hard to catch up to his friend.

John was winning until they got closer to the WestQuay and a security guard told them to knock it off or he would write them a ticket. The boys just rolled their eyes but walked the rest of the way, strapping their boards to their backpacks. They laughed and joked as they walked around the Centre, stopping in a few shops before they got to the sports store that John needed to go in. “Here it is, do you need anything?” John asked, looking at Mike, who was preoccupied with staring at the three girls over by the Starbucks. “Go talk to them.”

“No way, are you kidding me? That’s Mary Morstan, a junior, way out of my league mate.”

“They’re alone, just go talk to her while I’m in the store. I need to pick out some clothes too, so just go buy them a coffee and then ‘poof’ you’re in!” John shoved his nervous mate over towards the girls, pleased that after a few pushes Mike went on his own.  

John watched from inside the store as Mike kicked at the ground while he asked if the girls wanted to have a coffee together. He smiled when they giggled and nodded, then looked back at the wall of shoes, “bloody hell, how am I supposed to choose?” Grabbing a few cleats he liked, three athletic looking shirts, a few neon colored pants, and mesh shorts, John hauled them into the dressing room for some privacy.

He took off his trousers and jumper, then pulled on a yellow Adidas shirt that was made out of a material called ‘slim fit,’ and then replaced his boring white y-fronts with blue boxer briefs. John frowned at the mirror when he saw how the shirt clung tightly to his frame, because all though he had a flat stomach, he still hadn’t achieved any definition in his abs like most of the football players did. However, he did like the briefs much better than the pants his mum bought him. As soon as he started to get flustered and unsure, a ‘ding’ came from his mobile, which was in his trousers hanging on a hook.

**Sherlock: Find anything good?**

**John: Ummm, trying to decide right now. I think I should just stick with the jumpers. Lol.**

**Sherlock: Nonsense, u have to dress for success John. Let me c what u’ve picked out?**

**Sherlock: I can let u know if it’s cool or not**

John paced around the small changing room, debating whether he should send Sherlock a picture of the clothes. He knew he looked ridiculous and didn’t want Sherlock to laugh at him, or worse not want to be friends with a loser anymore. He decided to put his stupid insecurity behind after he saw Sherlock’s next text.

**Sherlock: We’re friends, I won’t judge**

It took John five tries to get a photo that he liked, then sighed, crossing his fingers and sent the pictures with his phone. It felt like years before Sherlock texted back, but in reality it was only a short minute until he responded.

**Sherlock: Those are perfect! If u can find that shirt in blue and black, I know u will be turning heads(:**

The teenager gave a sigh of relief when he read that a college kid thought his clothing choice was cool. He was about to through the trousers on to see if they had any in the color Sherlock specified, when another text arrived.

**Sherlock: I don’t know about the pants though. I’ve tried long boxer briefs like those b4 and they ended up really annoying me when I was running. Try to find some briefs that don’t go down so far on ur legs.**

John rubbed his legs together to mimic jogging and understood how they could eventually become annoying.

**John: Thanks! I saw some out there. I’ll go grab some and c if they r better.**

He pulled up his trousers, leaving the rest of the clothes to try on in the room, and went back into the store to find what Sherlock recommended. Coming upon a row of pants, John walked down the aisle until he found a shorter version of the briefs he wanted, pulling off a red, black, and purple pair, then running back to the changing room. Once there he took off his shirt, trousers, and pants, John shimmied into the purple boxer briefs, posing in the mirror. Just like before, his self-esteem dropped when he saw himself in the mirror and was even worse this time because he didn’t have his shirt on.

**Sherlock: Where u able to find anything better?**

**John: Yeah, don’t know if I like them tho. Look kinda weird.**

**Sherlock: I bet they don’t. U need to start thinking better of ur self(:**

**John: Fine, I’ll show u and u’ll c wat I mean. Don’t say I didn’t warn u.**

He was angry that Sherlock had called him out on his self-depreciating tendencies; he knew he wasn’t sexy or handsome and now Sherlock would see it too. He took a full body picture using the mirror in the room, to prove to his friend that they did, in fact, look weird.

**Sherlock: Those are exactly what u need. What the bloody hell r u talking about weird. Mate, u r 1 sexy high schooler. (;**  

**John: Nobody likes a liar**

**Sherlock: I am not lying. U look hotter than any guy here at Uni. U better buy those clothes!**

John let out a sigh, but couldn't hide the smile that came across his face. _He wouldn’t have any reason to lie, we haven’t even met yet._ He thought to himself as he put on the clothes he came in with and pulled the three pairs of briefs and two shirts into his arms, heading towards the queue.

**John: Thanks for ur help, mate. I would’ve just stuck with the jumpers if it wasn’t for u. lol.**

**Sherlock: No worries. Now u can burn those things and dress like a bad-arse footballer(:**

**John: I will not burn those jumpers! But I will wear the other stuff more**

**John: Well, g2g. Meeting Mike at the Starbucks so I can show him what u showed me about those bastard math problems.**

**Sherlock: Does Mike know about me?**

**John: Yea, of course…well I did tell him u were 17 tho**

**Sherlock: Y?**

**John: B/C he won’t get it. He doesn’t know u like I do and will freak out like a baby**

**Sherlock: Cool, well let me know if u need any more advice on pants(:**

**John: Thanks, I’ll ttyl**

John had a wide grin on his face as he walked out of the store with a plastic bag full of the clothes he purchased. Mike and the three girls were still sitting at a table drinking their coffee, when he bought his own and joined in on the conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I would love to hear what you thought.


	4. Till I Get My Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's POV two days after chapter three. Sherlock becomes more and more possessive and takes action to ensure he can always keep an eye on John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone, thanks to everyone for your kind comments and kudos. I really appreciate them because this fic is really wearing me out, a lot more than I thought it would. 
> 
> The chapters are getting much darker. Especially when it is Sherlock's POV because I am making him what I think is called an 'unreliable narrator,' like in "A Tell Tale Heart." He is insane and these chapters are based on what he thinks and feels...if that makes any sense at all(: 
> 
> Please check the updated tags and I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Chapter 4 – Till I Get My Way

“Oh John,” Sherlock whispered as he looked upon what he had deemed ‘John’s Wall,’ which had all the pictures he had found on the internet and the ones his beautiful innocent boy had sent him from the dressing room two days earlier. Those pictures that John had sent of his own volition in his short purple briefs, which Sherlock had asked, _no told_ him to buy were by far his most cherished possessions. Always following his and John’s morning routine, the detective began stroking himself slowly, his gaze tightly fixed on the look on his boy’s face, so unsure of himself…so afraid of disappointing his best friend.

Sherlock sped up his hand, slowly stoking up and down his thigh with the other as he pictured himself kissing that insecure look off his John’s face. He wouldn’t stop until the boy was moaning and begging for forgiveness for his own doubtfulness. John was his now and no lover of ‘The World’s Only Consulting Detective” would feel anything but pure ecstasy. “You. Are. Mine,” the man choked out as his hips arced off the sofa, picturing the small blonde boy sitting on his lap and thrusting into him, forcing his seed as far in as physically possible. “Forever,” Sherlock gasped, smearing the white liquid into his chest and all over figment John’s back, marking the boy who was panting and moaning in his mind, begging him for more.

“Fuck,” Sherlock laughed in his post orgasmic high, then he slowly stood up and headed for the bathroom. Stripping and turning on the tap to the bathtub, he sat his mobile down on the edge and gracefully sunk into the warm bubbly water. Instead of murders, clues, facts, and deductions battling through his mind, Sherlock was graced with peaceful images of the teenage boy sitting in their tub letting his best mate and lover wash off the sex from a few minutes ago. The detective leaned his head back and closed his eyes, a slight smile on his face as he cradled John in the tranquility of the blackest chasms of his mind.

Pulling out his phone, only to notice it was John’s lunch period already, Sherlock dried his hands on a flannel and began typing rapidly.

**Sherlock: Oi!**

**John: Oi, ur self(:**

**Sherlock: So what u wearing???**

**John: I can smell ur smugness from here. LOL**

**Sherlock: I was right wasn’t I? Turning heads already?**

As Sherlock keyed in the last text, his hand gripped the mobile tighter just from the thought of anyone having eyes for John. _Anyone other than him of course_. At that moment, the detective realized it was time to move into the second phase of making the student his. He wanted John’s mind to be filled up with thoughts only of his dear friend Sherlock, just like the boy had done for him.

**John: Yea, even Robert, 1 of the coolest seniors came up and talked 2 me(:**

**Sherlock: That’s well cool mate!**

“That is unacceptable John!” Sherlock actually shouted, kicking the foot of the tub, causing water to splash onto the floor. Possessive drive took over his fingers as they typed back to his boy.

**Sherlock: Hey, I was thinking…**

**John: Yea?**

**Sherlock: Do u maybe want to chat 2nite?**

**John: U mean not text? Like ring each other up?**

**Sherlock: Well, I was just thinking it would be pretty dench to actually hear the voice of my best mate. Lol.**

As his brilliant John had done so many times when texting him, Sherlock used the power of sarcasm and humor to lower the seriousness of the current subject. Except when the detective used the tactic, the teen was unaware of the manipulation and always…always fell right into the dance Sherlock had choreographed for them.

**John: ‘Dench?’ C, now ur getting the hang of it old man :D**

**John: But yea, I would like that 2. I’m going over to Mikes for dinner and hmwk but I’ll b home around 8. Text u then!**

**Sherlock: Brilliant! Tty 2nite(:**

His new plan was already set up perfectly in his head as Sherlock jumped out of the tub, dried off quickly and threw on a pair of black trousers and button up. He combed his hair, brushed his teeth, placed his mobile in his pocket, and picked up a black bag full of surveillance equipment he had nicked off the yard, heading to find a cab to take him to Southampton.

It took him a good hour and a half to reach John’s house, all the while he kept checking his mobile to ensure the boy was still at school and his mother was at work. When they pulled up to the house, Sherlock had to calm every bone in his body so he didn’t just jump out, track down John and take him home then and there. However eager the man was, he knew the hunt was the best part and would be damned if he ruined it by jumping the gun. He paid the cabbie, grabbed his bag of goodies, and headed up to the door.

It was easy enough to pick the lock without being seen by the neighbors and then he was finally standing in his boy’s room. Once in the oasis, the man couldn’t help himself and walked over to a blue pillow, shoving his nose into the fibers and inhaled deeply. A euphoric sigh exited his mouth, moistening the pillow, as John’s young sweet scent filled his entire being. He had never felt calmer and more at peace in his entire life standing over the blue bed with his trousers becoming tighter by the second.

Pulling himself from the blissful daze, Sherlock set his bag down and looked at his phone to find John traveling to Mike’s, _who should be thankful that he was straight,_ while his mother was still at work. “Now for the eyes,” the man whispered fondly, pulling out a small camera that was no bigger than a button. Searching the room with his detective eye, he settled on placing one of the lenses on the ceiling fan above the bed and the other on a bookshelf on the opposite wall and a few feet above where John slept.

“You can’t escape my eyes now John,” Sherlock grinned as he placed another camera just between the shower rod and curtain, above normal eye line so the Watson family would be none the wiser. The intruder looked over the shower, smelling the shampoo that coated his boy’s soft blonde hair and the soap that coated his smooth young body. A shiver of pleasure ran up his spine and down to his now aching cock, but he regained his composure, unwilling to come without John.

As he was leaving the house however, the temptation to grab a pair of black briefs from the teen’s laundry bin for tonight’s little chat was too much for any man. Shoving it into the black bag, Sherlock pulled out his phone to ensure all three cameras were working and the family was still a far, and then strode out of the house, locking the door as if nothing had ever happened.

Again, it took another hour and a half to get back to Baker Street, while Sherlock flipped between the three camera images, looking over John’s room with a fine tooth comb. Once he made his way up the stairs to 221B, changed into his robe and pajama trousers, made a cup of tea, and synced the camera feeds to his laptop to see all three views at once, it was five minutes past eight. No sooner had he looked at the clock, a teenage boy was walking into view on the laptop screen.

“Show time,” Sherlock clapped his hands, unable to wipe the giddy smile from his face just from being able to watch his John in his own environment. The boy ran his hand through his hair, _nervous are we John?_ pacing back and forth in front of his bed. The detective zoomed in the bookshelf camera to see John biting his lip, eyes darting back and forth, until finally he picked up his phone and lie on his back on the bed.

**John: Hey, I’m home(:**

**Sherlock: Do u feel like talking? We don’t have to if ur 2 tired.**

The detective already knew what the answer would be, so he sat down in his chair with the laptop in front of him and a cup of tea and John’s briefs sitting on the side table next to him.

**John: No, no I’m good. So do u want me to call u or u call me?**

**Sherlock: I can call. Give me a moment.**

The older man stilled himself, hit the call button, and pressed his ear to the mobile. A sigh escaped his lips when he heard the sweet unsure voice coming from the other side of the line. “’ello?”

“John?” He made his voice sound as light as possible with a hint of hesitation to make his John more comfortable.

“Oh, uhhh…hey?” A long silence held for a few moments and then they both started laughing at the awkward situation.

“Were you able to show Mike how to do the quadratic formula like I taught you?”

 “Yes, yes, it’s brilliant! I think we both are going to pass math finally, I really appreciate the help.”

Sherlock had heard the boy’s voice before but now that ‘that voice’ was addressing him, laughing with him, it was even more intoxicating than the detective could ever have imagined. The man watched John settle on his bed even more, relaxing into their conversation. “No worries mate, glad I could help. Oh, yeah I was gonna ask you, have you seen the new RoboCop movie yet?” Of course Sherlock hadn’t seen it but knew John went with his mates a couple of days ago to see the horrid action movie; however, he wanted to keep the teenager talking just so he could soak up the his sweet timber like a sponge, storing it in his mind palace.

Their conversation went on and on for about an hour, talking about the latest movies, music, football games, and which professors they would like to murder and why. Finally, John’s voice was relaxed, as was his body and Sherlock had had enough of hunting. It was time to pounce. “Hey, I forgot to ask, so are you a virgin?” He asked nonchalantly.

“Well, ummm, yeah…yeah I am. I know I shouldn’t be it’s just I haven’t found-“John began stuttering, embarrassed at both the question and admitting his inexperience to an older bloke. Sherlock smiled as he began rubbing himself through his trousers.  

“No, no, goodness no, it is perfectly fine that you are a virgin. You should wait until you really have feelings for someone. You are too special to give yourself away that easily, John, do you understand me?”

“Yeah, yeah okay, ummm, are you a…you know?”

At John’s innocent question, the detective had to stop his ministrations or this conversation would be over far too quickly. “No, I’ve done it twice,” _well, no really,_ “both times with the boyfriend I told you about when we first started chatting.” He watched the boy fidget on the bed, working up the courage to ask the question that would send them both down a path of no return.

“Was-was it, you know, nice?”

“It is the most amazing and beautiful thing you can do with somebody you care about John. You are too young to understand and never having done it, but my God it feels so wonderful.” Over their many days of communication, Sherlock had come to learn all the different strings his John had and what every single one did when he pulled it. The youth string was by far the easiest and his favorite reaction.

“I’m not that young,” the boy said defiantly. _Beautifully done Sherlock._

“No, no, I didn’t mean that, it’s just that you’ve never done anything with a guy before have you? No, so it’s kind of hard to explain to someone who is inexperienced.”

“Oh,” the boy sounded crushed, giving the older man ample time and opportunity to swoop in and pick up the pieces. 

“How big are you?”

“I’m uhhh, well I’m 5’5 is that what you mean?”

“No,” Sherlock gave a possessive stroke to the black briefs sitting to his side. “No, I mean your cock? How big is it, you know, when you’re hard and stuff?” He watched the boy’s reaction on the camera and could have sworn he saw said cock twitch a bit under his pajama trousers.

“Oh, well I guess I’m about four and a half or five inches when I’m fully…umm hard. What-I mean how big are you?”

“That’s a really nice size for someone your age John. I’m just about eight inches uncut…would you like to see it?” The boy stilled on his bed, looking around the room as if he would get caught. As soon as a shy grin came across the blushed face, Sherlock knew the answer and prepared to upload the photo he had already taken.

“Cool! Really, I mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” John’s voice was nervous but the detective could hear the underlying excitement at seeing a grown man’s penis.

 “No, it’s cool, we’re mates right. I mean you’re not going to show it to anybody else, yeah?” His question obviously had double intention to ensure the boy would not show anyone who might offer their third party opinion and ruin the relationship between the two mates. However, John did not need to know this, all he needed to know was Sherlock was nervous, so the teenager being the sweet boy that he was wanted to reassure his mate that this was between them.  

“Oh Jesus, no, no I would never do that Sherlock, you can trust me.”

“I knew I could, okay give me a tick,” the man said as he waited a couple of minutes to act like he was just now taking the picture, then hit send and watched the laptop screen intently. The reaction was even better than the detective could have ever imagined, _you never stop surprising me my beautiful John,_ The teenager looked at his phone and started rubbing over his own member under his cotton trousers.

“It’s…wow, it’s beautiful Sherlock, really I mean that,” the man tried to stifle a chuckle at the breathiness of the youth, who thought no one knew what he was doing in his room. “It’s ha ha-it’s really big. I mean…wow, ha!”

The man laughed along with John’s bashfulness, “thanks, I try,” he said, adding in a hint of humor to once again lighten the mood. “You know, I’m that big right now. Are you…are you hard too?” He laced his voice with uncertainty, drawing John in like a moth to a flame.

“How could you tell,” the boy laughed and had now put his hand under the elastic of his trousers rubbing himself in earnest.

“I couldn’t, I just know how much you turn me on-uhmph,” Sherlock couldn’t stop the groan that escaped his lips so he played it up dramatically to the boy on the other end of the phone. “I was kind of hoping you feel the same way. If you don’t that’s cool, I just wanted-“

“Oh hell no, mate, I’m wanking right now, you really can’t hear it?” The teenager chuckled and then let out a moan to show Sherlock how much he was enjoying himself.  

“No,” Sherlock matched his strokes to John’s on the video but soon became frustrated when the boy still had his hand under his clothes, forbidding his lover to see what was going on underneath. _That needs to change._ “I’m naked, are you?”

“No, I just-“ John’s breathing became more labored and Sherlock knew what was coming next, he needed to work fast.

“You should be, take your trousers and pants off so you can feel me touching you.” Giving orders was a big step and Sherlock knew it might be too soon, but the boy was so blissed out right now it just might work. It did, placing the phone on his heaving chest, John used his free hand to pull down both his pants and trousers, and then shimmied them down to his ankles, his left hand never leaving his cock. When he could hear the teen’s breathing come back to the phone, Sherlock continued, “can you feel me touching you? Your strong chest, your smooth stomach, your full cock, your beautiful arse?”

“Yeah, I-I can. You feel-“

“Would you let me come in you John?” was the last thing John heard before Sherlock saw the young body stiffen at his words. _At my words,_ and began slowing his ministrations, lying like a rag doll on the bed. When the man saw the effect he had on his sensitive boy, he shot off harder than he’d ever done before, a loud shout coming from his throat. They both lie motionless together on their respective surfaces, laughing with each other like lovers would in their post orgasmic bliss. “Are you okay?”

“Ha, are you kidding me? I’m great but well tired now, thanks for that.” The boy said laughing again as Sherlock watched him get up to change his clothes. The detective was quiet while he watched the oblivious boy strip out of his soiled clothes, searching for a fresh pair long enough for the man to get a good view of the tight cheeks that would be his soon enough.

“My pleasure John, you’re wearing out this old man. Well, I better go change; we’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?” Sherlock had no intention of changing out of his clothes until the morning, after all, waking up with the pleasure John caused him was becoming his new favorite pastime.

“Definitely! Thank for being cool Sherlock, with me being a…you know.  Well, good night ‘old man,’” the boy joked, not realizing that the young man he thought was a college student was actually a thirty-three year old adult.

“You are very welcome. Sleep well John,” the boy hung up and Sherlock added, “my John,” while he began wiping off his come with the black briefs his John had given him.  

                   

             

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed or I at least made you feel as icky as I felt when writing it. I would love to hear what you thought. Thanks for reading(:


	5. Give your Heart Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's POV directly after the events of the last chapter. The teenager can't get Sherlock out of his head and comes to a decision that could change his life forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everybody, thank you so much for all the comments and kudos(: I'm glad to see people are enjoying the darker side of the Sherlock Fandom.
> 
> This is a very emotional chapter for John and I think a bit heart breaking, you have been warned. 
> 
> Please enjoy and I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments!

Chapter 5 – Give your Heart Away

When John woke up in the morning he was the happiest he’d been in a long time, even happier than playing for the high school football team. A warm sensation was running down his arms and legs, heating him from the inside as he stood up and stretched. While he was preparing his shower the smile on his face just wouldn’t come off, no matter how hard he tried, he kept beaming at himself in the mirror. _Is this what love feels like? Whatever it is, I like it!_

The water felt perfect on his skin, warming him even more as he let it cascade down his goose bump filled body.  He stood there for a long minute under the water, thinking about last night. How kind Sherlock was to him because frankly he thought the bloke would hang up the moment he told him he was a virgin. John usually had to lie to his mates on the football team when they talked about who they bonked the night before. But Sherlock didn’t laugh, no, he was proud of him for not settling. Although he did talk about John’s inexperience, which made the teen not so much angry, but jealous that he’d never experienced the wonderful things his older friend had talked about.  

Before he turned off the tap to get dressed, a brilliant thought passed through the boy’s head, _I wonder if Sherlock would want to have sex with me?_ But the thought was short lived when he came to his senses that of course a college student wouldn’t want to shag a stupid kid like him. Deflated, the boy sighed getting out of the shower to brush his teeth and get dressed. The smile returned a second later when he heard the familiar ‘ding’ that meant Sherlock still wanted to talk to him.

**Sherlock: How r u feeling this morning?**

**John: Great, r u ok?**

**Sherlock: I am wonderful. I’ve never felt this great b4(:**

John actually giggled at the thought of that pale face with dark brown waves covering his eyes. He pulled on his grey pants, jeans, and red shirt before he texted back.

**John: Awesome, I was a bit worried u wouldn't want to talk after last night**

**Sherlock: WHAT?! In the name of heaven y not?**

**John: IDK I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m not very good at any of this**

**Sherlock: John, we all have to learn sometime and it is my honor to show u how to feel good…really good. LOL.**

**John: Thanks mate, ur the best!**

**Sherlock: I know. Now go to school (:**

**John: Yes Sir :D**

The teen wasn't sure what was happening to his body or mind during school. The professors’ voices echoed in the background but all he could focus on was hearing Sherlock tell him how beautiful he was, how he wanted to touch his chest and stomach, he’d even asked to come in him. Suddenly, John felt his pants get very uncomfortable very quick. _Oh shite!_ Just thinking about the gorgeous college student kissing him made John almost come right in his trousers in the middle of class.

_Stop thinking about it John._ ‘Take your clothes off so you can feel me touching you.’ _Quit thinking about it!_ ‘Can you feel me touching your strong chest?’ _Oh shite, oh shite!_ ‘Would you let me come in you John?’ The boy was gripping his desk so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, when finally the bell rang for the class to be over. _Oh thank God!_ None to gracefully, the student grabbed his stuff, carrying it in front of him to cover his arousal and ran into the bathroom panting and sweating.

Finally in the stall, he took himself in hand and within three quick strokes he came into the toilet with Sherlock’s name on his lips and wondering what it would feel like to actually have his mate come inside him. In his mind he pictured sex to be amazing and feeling like bliss but he’d seen a few porn clips on the internet where the person on bottom was screaming, making him a bit nervous of the pain involved. However, his mind quickly turned those negative thoughts off because Sherlock was the kindest bloke he’d ever met and would never hurt him.

Once he caught his breath and cleaned himself up, John headed off to the lunch room debating whether he should tell Sherlock what happened to him. He knew he would probably laugh but that was fine and he really didn’t want to tell anybody else, not even Mike.  

**John: Ur such a twat**

**Sherlock: Y? What happened?**

**John: U made me almost come in my pants at school :P**

**Sherlock: LOL! What where u thinking about?**

**John: Our convo last night and then BAM!**

**Sherlock: It happens to the best of us. Did u make it to the loo in time?**

**John: Yea, I had 2 run but I made it…u arse. LOL.**

**Sherlock: Glad I could help :D**

**Sherlock: Would U want to do it again 2nite?**

**John: God yes!**

**John: I mean, if u want 2 too. We don’t have to if u don’t.**

**Sherlock: Will u stop that! Of course I want to. I’m already hard thinking about u John.**

**John: Cool, well don’t come in class, yeah? I’ll ttyl**

The rest of the day was a blur and to be completely honest it scared John half to death, he’d never felt this way before in his whole young life. He had heard his mother talk about something called infatuation and it was obviously different from real love when she described it, but now he couldn’t tell. _Maybe that means it’s love?_ Deciding this was too serious to handle on his own, the teen wanted to ask for advice, after all asking for help is a grown-up thing to do, right?

After he finished his homework, John made some canned soup and garlic bread then waited for his mom to get home from work. “Well I’ll be, what’s this for, Johnny?” She smiled as she walked in the door and set her stuff down on the chair.

“Nothing, I just wanted to cook for us and soup sounded good. I kind of ruined the first batch though because the milk curdled but this one should be fine.” The boy smiled, embarrassed at his stupidity but knew she would find out anyway and thought it was best to get it out in the open.

Thankfully, she laughed and sat down across from her son, making ‘yum’ sounds as she smelled the garlic bread. “That’s alright, love, this smells delicious. So how was your day at school?”

_I almost came in my pants thinking about a college guy coming in my arse. How was your day?_ “It was alright,” John decided on the short version, “how was your day?” He knew that was a bad question to ask the moment he said it, realizing his mother would take up the entire dinner time talking about new gossip at her work.

Ten minutes later, she finished her story about how she was positive Kim the secretary had an eating disorder because no woman with three kids could be that skinny. “Umm, mum, can I ask you a question?” John was finally able to get a word in before she started back up.

“Of course, what’s on your mind?”

He played with the crumbs on his plate for a moment, trying to form the question in his mind. She already knew he didn’t care much for girls but they had never talked about boyfriends or any sex other than with a girl because she didn’t want him ‘knocking someone up’ as she so gracefully put it. “Well, there’s this guy that I like, really like, and it’s kind of freaking me out because all I can think about is him and nothing else. Is that bad?” The words just spewed out of the teen’s mouth before they could even pass through a filter.

“Oh Johnny, you’re growing up, love. It’s normal to have those kinds of feelings for a boy or girl. I remember when I met your father; all I could think about was holding his hand and kissing him. I day dreamed so much I even failed my chemistry class that year,” she smiled fondly, reminiscing about the man who died six years ago. “But that is not acceptable for you John, do you understand me? It is completely normal for you to be attracted to someone but I will not allow your grades to suffer from this, not like I did when I was your age.” She wagged her finger at him.

John felt a weight lift off his shoulders when his mother said the same thing happened to her and the fact she ended up marrying the man she couldn't stop thinking about was just icing on the cake. “Oh, don’t worry mum, he’s really smart and helps me with my homework. I think I might even pass math this year.”

“That’s wonderful Johnny, now you go finish up that homework and I’ll clean up here, yeah?” Having spent quality time with her son, she now focused all her attention on her mobile as she began to clean up the table.

“Okay, thanks mum, love ya!” With that, the boy kissed his mom on the cheek and ran upstairs more confident than ever. He jumped on his bed and started texting Sherlock.

**John: Hey, u there?**

**Sherlock: Yep, wats up?**

He loved how quickly Sherlock always responded to his texts, like he dropped everything just so he could talk to John. _Hell, who doesn’t like feeling important?_

**John: Nothing just made some soup and garlic bread for me n my mum**

**Sherlock: Nice, was it good?**

**John: It was alright, I curdled the first batch. LOL.**

**Sherlock: Ha! It happens. U up for talking?**

**John: Yea, u wanna call again or should I?**

Instead of another text, his mobile rang displaying Sherlock’s name on the screen. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, _why am I so nervous around him?_ and then answered the phone. “Hey,” the teenager’s voice cracked slightly and he hit his forehead with the palm of his hand in frustration at himself.

“Hello, John! So how was school today, other than you getting a hard on during class,” the deep voice on the other end of the phone chuckled slightly but John could sense he wasn’t being made fun of.

“That was so messed up, mate. That’s never happened to me before, well, I mean I’ve had erections before in class but I can usually calm myself down enough so I don’t have to shoot off in the toilet,” John was shocked at the confession that slipped from his mouth. He wasn’t sure if he was just getting more comfortable with Sherlock or perhaps this was what happens now that he’s getting older and more confident with himself.

“Orgasm control comes with experience but I’ll tell you what mate, there are sometime you just can’t help it. I’ve been that way recently.”

“You have? Why?” John had the slightest feeling it was because of him, but the logical side of his mind said he was just being a stupid git.

“Oh John, why don’t you ever believe me when I tell you that you’re beautiful and I love more than I've ever loved anybody in the world.”

John paused, shocked at the man’s confession of love. He racked his brain trying to remember if Sherlock had ever said that before but he came up empty. “You’ve never said that…that you loved me.”

“Well I do John. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I wish I could show you how much you are cherished, then you would know, then you would understand.”

The man’s voice was so passionate, so smooth that it normally made John feel light headed, but when those words came from him, the teen felt like he had lifted off the bed and was floating in a warm cloud. No one, besides his mother of course, had ever said they loved him and he knew that Sherlock was telling the truth, he could hear it in his voice. This was not infatuation, this was real and John was falling into this head first, he loved it. “Are you still there, John?”

“Oh yeah, uhh, sorry I just…do you really mean that because if you don’t that’s cool, I get it-“

“John,” the velvety voice stopped his rambling, “take your trousers and pants off.” Without thinking, the boy did as his _boyfriend?_ asked and shimmied out of his clothes.

“Okay, now what?” He felt a little funny and exposed sitting half naked on his bed with his mother preparing herself for sleep a few rooms over.

“Do you know how hard I am for you right now? Just thinking about kissing you makes me-ugphm” he head a moan from the other side of the phone and felt his cock twitch a little on his belly, knowing that he caused that sound. “Are you hard, John? Please tell me you are.”

He rapidly began stroking himself, not wanting to fall behind, until he was fully hard and panting slightly. “Yeah, yeah I am. I-I wish you were here with me Sherlock,” John stopped his ministrations at the comment, hoping his lust filled mind hadn’t gone too far. He knew he was bad at ‘dirty talk’; he had even taken a quiz in one of his mom’s magazine that told him so.

“I wish I was too, John. Do you know what I’d do to you?”

John had a guess but was nowhere near bold enough to assume, “what?”

“I would take care of you.”

He hadn't expected that, not in a million years, but then he kicked himself for putting Sherlock into a stereotypical box of careless lovers he saw in the movies and porn.

“I would open you up so slowly and make you beg for me. I would hold you tight and kiss you until you fell asleep in my arms. I want to taste your cock and your come in my mouth, oh I wish I could see how hard you are now for me John.” The man moaned, causing John to almost lose control.

The boy didn't know what to say, everything Sherlock had said was focused on him, taking care of him, loving him. John didn’t know what he was supposed to do for the man who talked so sweetly to him. Suddenly, an idea popped in his head and he mumbled a quick, “hold on” over the phone. He pulled up the camera on his mobile and focused the lens on his hard member and took the photo. It didn’t turn out exactly how he wanted but he captured from the tip to his balls so it would have to do. Plus, while he was taking the picture he could hear Sherlock panting and his hands were tied up so he couldn’t wank along with him. He hit send and waited for himself to be judged by the only person whose opinion he cared about.

“Oh God John!” he heard a shout from the end of the phone and he smiled at the approval in the man’s voice. “You are so beautiful, I would eat all of you in one bit,” the deep voice grunted and John knew he had come looking at the picture of his cock. “Come for me John.”

“I’m almost there, fuck,” he whispered, not wanting to wake his mom, until finally he felt his cock twitch in his hand and warm splotches on his stomach. _I’ve got to remember to take my shirt off next time._ He took a deep breath, then smiled at the sound of harsh breaths coming from the other end of the phone. “Okay?”

“More than okay John. You are so perfect, do you know that?”

“You keep saying that,” John laughed trying to disrupt the intense feelings boiling inside him.

“And I mean it.”

At those words, John knew exactly who he was and what he wanted to do. No more self-conscious kid stuff, no more kidding around, no more being scared, he wanted this, no he needed this. “Hey Sherlock?”

“Yes?”

“Just say no if you don’t want to…but, umm, would you maybe like to meet up this weekend and you know…hangout, like get a cup of coffee or something?” There was a long pause on the other end of the phone that made a dark cloud come over the boy’s confident façade. “If-“

“I would love that John,” the deep voice sounded pleased.

“Okay, awesome…yeah, great! Well, we can talk about it more tomorrow on Friday, yeah?”

“Talk to you tomorrow John, I love you.”

“Good night…I love you too,” the boy said and meant every word.   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an fyi, the next chapter will be Sherlock's POV when they meet. Then, John's will be when they "meet" (if you catch my meaning). However, I am debating whether I should write a parallel chapter for the "meet" with Sherlock's POV as well. I think it will be interesting to see the contrast in their perceptions of the sexual encounter, so I will most likely add that extra chapter before the ending.
> 
> Also, I hope they use bells in UK schools but if they don't I would love to know what the use and I will change it(:


	6. Act Nice and Gentle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John meet in person for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you again for all the wonderful comments I've received for this fic, they definitely keep me motivated(:
> 
> This was the first chapter of the story I had trouble writing. I think it turned out well though, and pretty realistic based on the last chapter and how much John has become emotionally invested in Sherlock. 
> 
> Please enjoy(: and feel free to comment below.

Chapter 6 – Act Nice and Gentle

Friday

Sherlock knew he had already won over John’s heart and body but know he possessed the boy’s mind as well. He was truly ‘his’ John now and that simple fact made the man harder than a rock just thinking about his complete and utter possession of the most beautiful thing in the world. The boy had not only sent him a picture of the most gorgeous young cock without him even asking but he had also decided they should meet all on his own. This was it, the final act in the play the detective had written for the two lovers and it would earn a standing ovation.  

He was still sitting on the couch from the night before with his white release staining his shirt and John’s pants. Sherlock brought them up to his nose and cherished how his scent and his boys were now mingled together on the piece of material. _Oh, it’s show time!_ The laptop screen showed John getting into the shower, oblivious to the cameras his lover had installed the day before. “Good morning John,” he whispered caressing the small naked body on the screen.

He slowly began working himself into hardness but stopped when he saw the boy duck his head, leaning on the shower wall. “What are you thinking? Of me? What you want me to do to you when we meet? Oh I promise John, it will be a night you will never forget, so don’t you worry. Sherlock will take care of everything.” His cock twitched at the thought of being inside the boy’s mind, he had the power to make John almost come in his pants even when he was in a different city. He would make his boy tell him everything they did together in his young imagination, what made him squeal and moan.

When John started washing himself again, Sherlock could see himself in there with him; standing behind the boy, looming over him to wash the soft blonde hair, rubbing soap into his skin and working his slippery hands down to the small cock, rubbing him slowly to hardness. Instead of wanking his cock, Sherlock was pressing himself up against John’s back, rutting along the crease of his cheeks, making the boy beg for him to enter. “Not yet,” Sherlock whispered to the scene going on in his mind as he sped up his hand on what he saw as John’s hard member. He lowered his hips slightly so his cock pressed on the underside of his boy’s arse and rocked up, splitting the cheeks with his own hardness. John chanted ‘I love you’ over and over again as Sherlock came over the tan back and the boy shot himself on the tile shower wall.

“I love you, John. Just one more day and you will have me and I you.” The detective’s body was shaking as he came down from his orgasm. He noted the amount of semen he had been producing during his time spent with John was significantly larger than normal, which indicated his arousal for his boy had increased now that he was his.

When he finally pulled himself down from the blissful high, he grabbed his mobile to plan their meeting now that John was out of the shower and getting dressed.

**Sherlock: Good Morning(:**

**John: Morning, did u sleep well?**

**Sherlock: Yes, thank u. u?**

**John: The best thanks.**

He debated bringing up last night’s conversation first, but after John’s pensiveness in the shower, Sherlock decided it was best to nip any second thoughts in the bud.

**Sherlock: So did u still want to meet this weekend?**

There was a long pause, bringing the first shadow of doubt into the detectives mind. However, if the boy did say no, it just meant the hunt would continue and increase the anticipation of having John.

**John: Yes, I would like that. What did u want to do?**

**Sherlock: Well, I was thinking, if you want I can drive down and pick u up and take u 2 c my Uni.**

**John: Ummm, that’s a bit far…**

**Sherlock: We don’t have to if u don’t want 2. I just thought if I drove that much 2 c u it would b cool to show u my school. No worries tho.**

Watching his phone for a response, Sherlock went over all the scenarios in his mind. Noting every outcome and possibility of what John would do and getting the teen away from Southampton was by far the best way to go with the plan. If John needed a little push or guilt trip, that’s what the detective would do, even if he had to call him.

**John: No, I do want to c u and ur school. I don’t know what I’d tell my mom tho. I don’t think she would like me going to London for the weekend.**

**Sherlock: I understand but we’d only be going to c a movie or getting coffee and plus maybe we can talk to admissions and scholarships at Uni for u.**

**Sherlock: I bet ur mom would appreciate the initiative ur showing to go look at colleges, yeah?**

Sherlock kicked himself for starting this conversation over text, he should’ve waited until the boy left the house so they could talk about their meeting. He had underestimated John’s wanting to follow the rules and it might come back to bite him in the arse.  

**John: No, ur right. She always worries about paying for my schooling ): and if I could get an early start on scholarships that would definitely help.**

**Sherlock: If u want, I can pick some applications up at Uni so we can fill them out together when u come up to London.**

_Using his drive and caring nature to the advantage. Check and mate._

**John: Really?! That would b great!**

**Sherlock: Totally, and u could surprise ur mom when u get back on Sunday(;**

**Sherlock: Moms love that kind of stuff, yeah?**

**John: Yeah, ur right about that. She still raves about that stupid garlic bread I made her last night. LOL.**

**Sherlock: C. We can kill 2 birds with 1 stone. We can finally meet and hang out and u can work on getting ready for Uni. Perfect!**

**John: Yeah, let me talk to Mike. I’ll tell my mum I’m sleeping over at his house for the weekend(:**

**Sherlock: Great idea(: I can pick u up at the WestQuay tomorrow at 10am. That sound good?**

**John: Cool. This is great, my mum is going to be so happy if I can get those scholarship!**

**Sherlock: No worries, I’ll get u hooked up mate.**

**John: Thanks a lot Sherlock. I’ll c u 2morrow.**

When he put down his phone, Sherlock licked his lips and grinned wildly down at the picture of John’s cock, knowing that tomorrow it would be in his mouth. He pulled the computer onto his lap and began researching The London Metropolitan University scholarships to print out. After five minutes, the detective had a stack bigger than ‘War and Peace’ sitting beside the printer. “That should be enough,” he smiled to himself happily, knowing that him and John would start to fill them out at the coffee shop down the road but then his boy would become tired and they would have to come back to his flat to finish. However, they were all valid scholarships he knew would benefit the teenager, after all only the best would do for his John.

After he had completed the research, Sherlock strode off to clean up his flat, checked to make sure there was still plenty of lube in his bedside table, and actually made his bed, trying to make it look as clean and neat as John’s room had been. When he opened the fridge, a groan came from his throat as he realized he didn’t have any food or beer to feed the teenage boy.

He threw on his coat and for the first time in a month, made his way to the store. Pushing the trolley down the aisles, he threw in some cans of soup and scones that were already made from the bakery. Next, he picked out a nice bottle of merlot with high alcohol content and a six pack of Newcastle Ale, not sure which the boy would prefer and he assumed whatever was left over he would give to Lestrade as a bribe for another case. He made his way through the queue and finally got home by the time it was dark.

After much debating, Sherlock decided it was best to only text John that night instead of call. He wanted the teenagers imagination to run wild at all the things they would do together and the detective knew he had conditioned John enough that the boy would only think of the good things, never negative scenarios like the possibility that the man he was about to meet was ten years older than he said. His boy was too trusting for any of that kind of nonsense and the detective was far too clever to ever put that seed of doubt anywhere near his mind. “Yes, when I come to pick you up tomorrow my dear John, you won’t run, you won’t be frightened. No, you will hug me and let me hold your hand, just like you were meant to do all along. Because you love me.”

**Sherlock: Good night John.**

**John: Good night, love u(:**

**Sherlock: I love you 2. C u tomorrow.**

Sherlock normally groaned when he woke up in the morning, taking at least an hour to get out of bed, but today was different, much different. The detective had put away all the pictures he kept of John, dressed in a button up striped shirt, leaving it untucked to appear younger, pulled on some dark faded jeans, combed his hair, and even brushed his teeth, all before John even got into the shower on the camera.

Jumping in the BMW he rented for the weekend, _it wouldn’t do to have some cabbie listen in on our conversation, now would it John?_ he, made sure to burn three CDs with Muse, Pink Floyd, and The Black Keys songs, which Facebook had indicated were John’s three favorite bands. They would help, just in case of an awkward silence when John was mulling over the fact he was in a car with a thirty-three year old, the familiar music would help calm him.

The drive was rather pleasant once he got out of London and the thoughts of seeing his John’s face kept the raging war in his mind calm. He pulled up to the front of the shopping Centre and didn’t even try to hide the moan that escaped his lips. He checked his phone.

**John: I’m at the Starbucks. Let me know when u get here.**

“Ahhh, early as I expected, you must be eager indeed John,” he chuckled.

**Sherlock: Just pulled up. Do u want me to come inside or u just want to come out so we can hit the road and get to Uni quicker?**

**John: Yea, I can come out n meet u. I haven’t ordered yet. Wat u driving?**

**Sherlock: Charcoal BMW, sedan. Just outside the west entrance. Hurry bc they want me to pay parking. LOL.**

**John: On my way(:**    

Sherlock ignored the fact he was not in a pickup zone and waited patiently for John to come right to him. Suddenly, he saw a crop of blonde hair through the glass doors, then the smiling boy holding a longboard and backpack came running out of the building towards his car waving. Sherlock waved back and honked the horn once to let the boy know he had the right car. Without looking any further, John opened up the backdoor to toss his bag and board in, shut it, and then hopped into the front seat. The detective hit the gas and drove away from the Centre as the boy hurriedly put his seatbelt on.

“How are you? I hope you didn’t have to wait too long, John?” Sherlock started right in on mild conversation, making sure to act completely calm, indicating that he thought everything was fine.

“No, not at-“ John finally looked up at the face of his best mate, who looked like the Sherlock from the picture, but much much older. “Wait, umm, I don’t understand. How-how old are you Sherlock?” The boy was becoming agitated but the detective had expected this and knew exactly how to extinguish the flames.

“I’m thirty, John,” _what does three years matter, right? Thirty sounds much better than thirty-three._

“Why did you lie to me? I think you should let me out now, please.”

“John, please just let me explain, okay. Hold on, yeah?” Sherlock pulled off into a store parking lot, giving the boy the illusion of security. Before John could reach for the door handle, the detective took his hand gently in his larger ones. “See, this is what I was worried about and why I wanted to wait and tell you in person, John. I was hoping you were old enough to understand that age has nothing to do with friendship or love. You’ve seen actors and actresses marry people thirty years younger than them, right? You’ve seen the elderly befriend children in elementary school, yeah? I hope I didn’t make a mistake placing my love and trust in you, John.”

_There it is, good boy._ Sherlock watched deep blue eyes dart back and forth, his thoughts and feelings battling against one another. The detective looked hurt at the boy’s hesitation and slowly began to remove his hand from John’s. He waited for the hand to reach back for his and when it came, his mind exploded with ecstasy, better than any hit of cocaine he’d ever taken.

“No, I don’t care about age, Sherlock. I just…I just don’t like that you lied to me, how-how do I know you’re not lying about everything else?” John hung tight to the man’s hand but lowered his head, his heart about to break if Sherlock didn’t confirm and reciprocate his love.

“I meant every word I ever said to you. Let me show you how much I care for you, how much I love you John. Please, let me make it up to you for being a stupid git, I misjudged how mature your were and I…well I was just so scared of losing you.” Sherlock brought the small tan hand up to his lips and kissed the soft knuckles, watching in pleasure at how the boy’s cheeks turned pink. _Mine._ He inhaled deeply, pinpointing the soap he had smelled in the shower and dirt from holding the longboard. The look in John’s eyes told him his excuse was accepted and it was time to lighten the mood. “What kind of longboard is that? Landyachtz?” _Of course it’s not it’s Sector 9._

“Uhhh, oh no it’s Sector 9 but I bought the wheels separate and installed them myself. They’re Abec 11’s, but I really wanted green instead of orange but they didn’t have any at the shop.” Sherlock had pulled out of the parking lot and started driving towards London, while John told him all about his longboard, how he wish he had a Penny board too, and the time he broke his wrist and two ribs when he tried to grind down the stairs at school.

By the time they were ten minutes away from Baker Street, John was so excited to be in London it appeared he had completely forgotten who he was sitting in the car with. Sherlock knew he was good but John’s trusting nature surprised even him. He had worked three weeks for this moment and the look in his boy’s eyes, the trust, the love he felt beaming off of John was enough to make his frantic mind melt into jelly. Knowing that John did not get out of the car as soon as he saw the man who he’d come to know, was the closest thing to Heaven Sherlock could ever imagine.

“You want to stop at the coffee shop? I brought the scholarship papers so we can fill them out together.”

“Oh, wow, you actually went to the college and picked them up for me? That’s…wow, thank you! Yeah, I could really use a coffee, too. “

“Great,” Sherlock mimicked the boy’s eagerness and pulled in front of the coffee shop. They walked in together, John embarrassed when Sherlock insisted on buying for him, but took the latte with a shy “thank you.” The detective used the excuse of filling out the applications to sit right next to his boy, close enough so their thighs were touching. The teenage youthful lust would soon get the better of him, Sherlock knew, and the hunger that played in his head would soon fill John’s as well.

They made it through a third of the stack when John finished his coffee, with pink cheeks that were either from the heat of his drink or the heat he was feeling in his loins. _I know which one, my naughty boy._ Sherlock, however, ignored him, continuing looking over the papers, waiting for John to make the decision to go down the rabbit hole. Because that was the high, wasn’t it? To be behind the scenes so that when the play ends, the crowd and actors won’t even know you were the one who made the scenes happen. If he did it right, which he always did, John would think everything that happened tonight was all his idea and desire and that was winning the great game.  

“I really appreciate you finding all these for me, Sherlock. My mom is going to be thrilled if I get accepted and she doesn’t have to pay a thing. This is kind of a lot though, we might be here until midnight,” John laughed nervously, rubbing his palms over his thighs.

The man took a sip of his coffee, “oh, I don’t mind. It’s up to you though, what would you like to do John? We can stay here and finish up or if you’d like we can go back to my flat and finish up there. I think I have some food there if you’re hungry or there’s a Chinese restaurant down the street we can order from.”

“Ummm, yeah, I guess it would be a lot more comfortable at your place than having the baristas stare at us because we only ordered one coffee,” he laughed again, rubbing his neck in a nervous tick.

“Baristas?! Oh, please John, they make coffee at a chain store and do not deserve such a cool title.” _God bless sarcasm._

“That’s true, it is a pretty awesome job title,” they both stood up and Sherlock grabbed the papers off the table to place in front of the erection he had been sporting ever since their thighs touched.  

“I’m only a few blocks down the street, get in,” Sherlock commanded, pulling the last string to make the boy’s foot get into the car, and he was rewarded with watching the smiling boy’s head disappear under his eye line of the top of the car and into the front seat. It took five minutes to get to the flat, but they sang ‘Another Brick in the Wall,’ from one of the CDs all the way there.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have been to WestQuay in Southampton I do apologize for the inaccuracy in my portrayal of the layout. I based my facts off of their website and Google Maps and tweaked it a tiny bit to fit the story, so I'm sorry if it was confusing.
> 
> If you have never been to WestQuay, then my description is spot on and you can ignore the sentences above this one. LOL.


	7. When the Lights Go Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's POV directly after the last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTICE: This Chapter has been updated due to the fact I had no idea 14 year olds could drink in their homes in the UK. One of my amazing readers let me know, so I thought it was important and small enough to change easily. Only one paragraph has changed so if you've already read it, you're not missing anything new, except Britain is awesome(:
> 
> Hello! Thank you again for all the lovely and thoughtful comments I've received. It's crazy to think I almost stopped after the first chapter but now I'm swimming in kudos and comments. LOL. 
> 
> IMPORTANT PLEASE READ  
> Okay, so this is it guys. John's POV of his first sexual encounter with Sherlock. It is not as bad as I originally thought it was going to be, but by the end it is gets pretty intense. So please, PLEASE, look at the updated tags and know that this is dub-con verging on rape because John is a minor and unsure. If you are easily triggered by these things, DO NOT READ. I do not wish to upset or trigger somebody inadvertently, so just be aware of what you are getting into. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy and I would really love to hear your thoughts on this update(:

Chapter 7 – When the Lights Go Out

“Would you like some tea or I think I have some Coke if you’d prefer?” Sherlock’s voice called from the kitchen. John was sitting on the man’s couch, his knee bouncing up and down with nerves as he looked through the papers strewn out across the coffee table. Nothing had happened and he was fine; the boy kept telling himself this every time a horrible thought crept into his head. Although Sherlock had lied to him and was in fact thirty instead of twenty-two, the man was just like the ‘Sherlock’ he had come to know over the past weeks. _Just older, a lot older._

“Ummm, yeah a Coke sounds great,” the teenager shouted back, kicking himself when his voice cracked.

“Oh wait, I have some Newcastle, too. Have you ever tried it?” Sherlock came in with two open bottles of the ale, handing one two John with a kind smile.

“Well, thanks but mum says I’m too young still. Like, kids make stupid decisions already and don’t need beer to help ‘em out, or something like that.” When the words escaped his lips, the boy felt a giant weight fall onto his shoulders. “I-I should probably-“

“What are you talking about? It’s not like you’re going out driving or walking out in public for the rest of the night. Drinking’s not a big deal, John, you and I drinking one is going to have the same effect on both of us, age has nothing to do with it.”

The boy lowered his head in embarrassment, bringing pink to his cheeks at the realization that he was acting like a scared kid. Sherlock was only trying to make him feel comfortable, so John decided he would only drink a little until he knew how the beer would affect him. “No, that makes since. Thank you, this…umm, well this is my first beer. Actually no, I accidentally took a sip of my mom’s once ‘cause I thought it was Root Beer, but I spit it out before I swallowed it.” _Quit talking so much,_ he yelled at himself for rambling and took the bottle.

“Well then,” Sherlock raised his bottle, clinking it against John’s, “to new mates and new experiences.”

“Cheers,” the boy smiled and took a long sip of the dark brown ale. He tried hard not to scrunch up his nose at the bitter taste, but he failed miserably causing the other man to giggle at him. “It’s not bad, I guess but I don’t see how people can drink this one with dinners and stuff.”

The man sat down next to him, touching their thighs and shoulders together. “Well there are hundreds if not thousands of beers around the world for you to try. That’s what’s cool about trying new things and having as many experiences as you can, yeah? Well, I don’t…that’s what I think at least.”

“Yeah, I totally agree with you mate! That’s why I was so excited when we talked about these scholarships. Uni will be awesome, I just know it!” John took another sip of the beer and set it down on the table, focusing his attention back on the papers and trying hard not to think about how warm Sherlock’s leg was against his. The two sat on the couch filling out the forms quietly, but the teen just couldn’t stop his mind from running around in circles. “Can I use the loo?”

“Yeah, of course, it’s right over there,” the older man smiled, “that beer will do that to ya, yeah?”

“Yeah, right,” when John got into the bathroom his breathe was already starting to come too fast. He had no idea what was going on inside of him, his mind was telling him Sherlock was wrong for lying to him and this was not a safe situation; however, he had been fighting an erection ever since he felt Sherlock’s thigh touch him in the coffee shop. Now that he was in the man’s flat, which seemed normal just like its owner, he felt safe but terrified at the same time. _How can you feel two complete opposite emotions at the same time? What is wrong with you John Watson?_

He started laying out the facts he had gathered since they met at WestQuay, trying to make since of the last few hours. _Sherlock had lied, yes. Why? Because he thought I would be too big of a baby and not understand how two people a measly sixteen years apart could be friends. He drove almost an hour and a half to see me. He bought me coffee. He printed out almost twenty Uni applications. Made me dinner. Gave me a beer. Sherlock is just trying to treat me like an adult because I am adult. I’m in high school for Christ’s sake. Plus, every time I hear him say my name I feel like my body is going to fucking melt._

“John? John, are you okay in there?” That deep voice that sent shivers down his spine called from outside the bathroom door.

“Yeah, sorry, I’ll just be a minute,” the boy yelled and flushed the toilet and turned on the tap to wash his hands even though he hadn’t done anything. When he stepped out, Sherlock was standing just outside the door and John hadn’t realized how tall the man was until they were standing face to face, well more like face to chest. The man put a warm hand on his shoulder, leading him back to the couch.

“Are you alright? Was it the soup I made?”

“Ha! No, it was delicious, I was just…never mind, I’m fine let’s get back to the applications, yeah?” John tried to change the subject quickly, not wanting Sherlock to know he was questioning their friendship.

“John, look at me,” the man grabbed his chin to tilt John’s gaze to meet his. As soon as his eyes met the two silver orbs, the teen knew Sherlock loved him. Their attention was focused solely on him, John Hamish Watson, and for the life of him, the boy couldn’t figure out why this gorgeous mature adult would want anything to do with him. “Please tell me what’s wrong. We’re mate, best mates, and I want you to know you can tell me anything.”

Embarrassed again, the teenager tried to pull away from the intense gaze of his friend, but the hold on his chin didn’t loosen. He saw something else while staring in those bright eyes, lust and…something else, something John couldn’t quite put his finger on, but it made all the blood in his brain go down to his lower regions. “I-I just don’t know what I’m feeling…no I don’t mean that I just-ugh, I’m sorry.” If he couldn’t even get the situation straight in his head, he knew there was no way he would be able to articulate his feelings to Sherlock. All the boy could do was close his eyes and pray that the only person who had ever taken this much interest in him wouldn’t drive him back to his home in Southampton and never call again.

 “I understand John, it’s okay to be nervous in new situations. Quite honestly, I’m a bit shaken too.” The man whispered, looking down and letting go of the chin in his grasp.

_What?_ Relief washed over him, calming almost every single nerve in his body, just from those few words. He was not alone and whatever was battling between his mind and body, Sherlock was going through it too. “You are? But this isn’t your first time? I’ve never even…”

“With you it is. John, for some reason being around you is different than the other men I’ve been with. You are so young and vibrant and just so much wiser beyond your years…you’re perfect John. I just wish I could make you see that.”

He had heard a few of those words to describe him before, but he never really believed the person because it was usually just a family member that had to say it. This, however, was coming from a man who had no strings attached, could just get up and walk away if he didn’t like the boy, and he was telling John flat out that he was perfect. Suddenly an unstoppable giggle came from his lips and he quickly turned cherry red, turning his head and covering his face.

“No don’t hide, you’re adorable when you’re embarrassed,” Sherlock laughed, pulling John’s hands away from his face and holding them gently in one big hand. He saw the man’s other hand come up to his cheeks and as soon as the warm hand made contact, John let out a sigh from deep in his throat. A smile came across his face, amazed at how gentle such large hands could be.

Suddenly, he stiffened when Sherlock’s face started moving closer while the hand on his cheek kept him from pulling back. His lips grazed over John’s lightly and they both let out a small moan at the contact. He had kissed a girl once before but hated it when she jabbed her tongue in his mouth, causing her thick make up to smear all over his face. This, however, was so gentle and the hand on his face was comforting, making the boy want to stay in this position forever.

After a few ghosting touches, Sherlock deepened the kiss, giving the smaller closed lips a few licks with his tongue. Only confused on what to do for a second, John realized he was supposed to open his mouth and do the same things the more experienced man was doing to him. He parted his lips and before he could reciprocate, Sherlock’s larger tongue eased into his mouth, grazing under his tongue and up to the roof of his mouth. It didn’t just feel nice, John decided, it felt wonderful to have the man kissing him so sweetly and the soft moans coming from the other mouth were gorgeous.

As soon as the boy began to relax enough to participate, he felt the hand move from his face to his shoulder and slowly push him to lie down on to the couch. His body became rigid, unsure about having such a large body on top of him, until Sherlock moved from kissing his mouth to ghosting down his tanned throat. “Shhh, trust me,” the deep voice whispered in his ear, making the boy jolt with pleasure when he nibbled on the sensitive skin between his hair line and ear. With a bit more pressure from above, John laid down on his back because he did trust that the man above him would never hurt him.

He knew he made the right decision when Sherlock didn’t put any weight on the him, just placed one knee in between his open legs with the other by his hip and began tracing the small swollen lips with his tongue. Surprisingly, John didn’t feel trapped at all and even if he was, the feeling in his groin wouldn’t want him to try run away.

John got more confident with kissing the older man so much that the hands that had been lying limp at his side decided to reach up and cradle Sherlock’s ribs. The heat radiating from the core to his palms was incredible, so while keeping one hand still, he moved the other up to the man’s chest to feel how fast his heart was beating. Sherlock broke their kiss with a smile, placing the hand that was by John’s head over to the small panting chest below him. The boy grinned because he knew his heart was beating just as fast Sherlock’s and once again, he was not alone in his excitement.

Slowly, the thin but tall body above him lowered down so John could feel the other man’s heart through his chest now. He was amazed at how being squashed between Sherlock and the couch didn’t feel uncomfortable, especially when the hips above him slightly twitch, providing amazing friction for his aching cock. “Feels good doesn’t it?” Sherlock grinned, pulling his head back to look at John, who nodded shyly. No matter how fantastic it felt, there was no getting around the awkward feeling in his head that he was actually rubbing up against man for the first time in his life. “You can trust me, John, I won’t hurt you Ever.”

“I trust you,” came the small voice and John wanted to bang his head on the wall for not being able to control something as simple as his voice. He was brought out of his self-depreciation by a sharp thrust from above, shooting pleasure all the way from his cock to the tip of his head.

“What have I told you about thinking bad about yourself?” Sherlock chided, slowly increasing the speed of his hips as they rubbed over the boy’s jeans. This statement brought a wide eyed look from the teenager and John felt like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “You are beautiful,” he gave a small nip to the boys ear and rocked his hips, “and smart,” another bite and rock, “and strong,” and again, “and I love you more than anything in this world!”

He didn’t know if it was the friction Sherlock was creating or the conviction with which the man whispered those praises into John’s ear, but the boy’s hips stuttered and then stilled as he came in his jeans. Without thinking he tried to push away from Sherlock, horrified at his lack of control. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-“the boy spat out, but couldn’t get up with two large hands on his shoulders. Sherlock’s smile was kind and hungry and went in for a deep kiss that confused and shocked the teenager.

“What did I do to deserve you, John?” the older man sped up his hips, moving over to rub against the boy’s thigh, which John was ever grateful for because even the soft material of his pants was irritating his oversensitive cock. It was strange feeling Sherlock’s hardness against his leg, recalling their first phone conversation when the man told him he was eight inches long. He really didn’t know how big eight inches was, but whatever was rutting against him felt enormous and intimidating.

The man gave a loud grunt, burying his face into John’s neck and suddenly the man felt heavy and the wetness in his crotch and now on his thigh was starting to become uncomfortable as he came down from his orgasm. As if the man had read his mind, Sherlock jumped up with a massive grin. “I think we kind of ruined our clothes, did you bring pajamas with you or do you need to borrow some of mine?”

John sat up, “no, I brought some. I’ll go change,” he stood up and walked slowly towards the hall. When the air hit the wet spots on his clothes it seemed to start a chain reaction of coldness shooting through his body. Now he wanted the warmness Sherlock had to offer. _What the hell is wrong with me?_  

 “John?” The man called, taking a few steps towards him, “I think I might actually need a shower, do you…um, well you don’t have to, but I’m sure you feel pretty gooey too. If you wanted I could wash you, you know like give you a massage. I’m sure your back is soar from lying on the couch. Like I said you don’t have to, but…”

The boy had never even thought about being washed by another person before. It was a shower, you got in, you got out, that was it but knowing how gentle Sherlock’s hands would be with washing his body sent chills through him and down to his spent groin. “No, I mean, yeah, I mean, sure I would like that.” _Stupid, stupid, stupid why can’t you just talk normal?_

The man smiled, like John saying yes was the greatest thing in the entire world. “Wonderful, come on it’s right here. You go ahead and get it, I’ll find another towel and flannel for you.” Sherlock pointed to the door down the hallway for John to go into, while he went in the room opposite. The boy walked into a huge bedroom with a master bed, perfectly made John noticed, with a ruby colored comforter and a bunch of pillows nicely organized at the head. He smiled and walked shyly into the bathroom that was connected to the bedroom, to find a huge tub and walk in shower big enough for five people.

As soon as he set foot in the bathroom and realized the next step was to take his clothes off, John began to panic. _Well what else did you think taking a shower meant?_ This was important to Sherlock, he could tell, and in his mind he knew it would be amazing to have the man wash him. There was still a little piece of self-consciousness and doubt in Sherlock that gave him pause, but when the man’s words of how much he loved him for his beauty and maturity, John made his decision.       

He gave a quick thanks to whoever was watching out for him that Sherlock still hadn’t come back, and quickly turned on the tap and began stripping out of his soiled clothes. It was surprising how much calmer his mind was that he was able to take of his clothes and get into the shower without the man’s piercing eyes watching him like a hawk. He worked the knob to adjust the water to warm but not hot, when he heard the older man come in with the extra towels. “You okay?”

“Uhhh, yeah, it’s nice,” John said turning his back to the door, ensuring that the first thing Sherlock wouldn’t see was his much smaller package. He didn’t care too much for having his arse being the first thing either, but it was much better than his cock and bullocks. His heart stopped when he heard the door behind him open, then two splashes as he stepped in and shut the door.

To John’s mind, the silence lasted forever, only the background noise of the water stopped him from breaking down. Then, he felt a hand on his shoulder, the thumb slowly rubbing over the knobs on his neck. “You’re gorgeous John, please let me see you,” the dark sensual voice pleaded in his year, echoing high above the sound of the water hitting the tile. With slight pressure on his shoulder and all the trust he could muster, John closed his eyes and slowly turned to face the older man. “It’s okay,” he hadn’t realized he was shaking violently until the man wrapped his arms around him, pulling him tightly to his large chest. “How do you not know how beautiful you are?”

John could feel his cock pressed up against the man’s warm thigh and in turn he could feel Sherlock’s pressed up against his stomach. He tried not to focus on the size difference, knowing his doctor had told him he would get longer in the next year, but still it was proof of his stupid youth. Sherlock finally pulled away, holding him out at arm’s length, gazing at his smaller body like he wanted to devour him. Those eyes both terrified the boy and made his cock twitch a bit towards the owner of said eyes. “May I wash you?” How could he say no, however, the words wouldn’t come out so he just nodded meekly.

Sherlock smiled, then poured some shower gel into his hand and began rubbing it gently over John’s smooth chest. He couldn’t stop the moan from escaping his lips at how just one touch made all of his skin tingle and feel like it was burning from the inside. One large hand held the back of his neck, while the other slowly worked the soap into a lather down his arms, his chest, and stomach, finally traveling down to his half hard cock. As soon as Sherlock began playing with the short fine blonde hairs resting around his member, John dropped his head on the man’s shoulders.

“You like that? How about this?” his thin fingers wrapped around his member, slowly pulling the foreskin back all the way, then pulling it back over the head again.

“Sh-Sherlock,” his whole body shivered from the contact that one piece of skin was receiving. The boy was amazed at how different it felt form when he wanked himself, though he had no idea why it should be any different, but it most definitely was. If he had a choice he would never go back to doing it solo again. When the slippery warm hand stopped, John involuntarily bucked his hips, searching in vain for more friction.

“All in good time,” the man chuckled, “how about you wash me off before we run out of hot water, yeah?” In a single moment, feelings of frustration, lust, fear, and want all passed through his young brain until he pushed them away and grabbed the soap bottle with wide eyes. _Just do exactly what he did, John. Then you won’t mess up._ The boy squirted some green goo into his palm and placed it back on the shelf, staring at the chest in front of him.

His hesitation was short lived, when Sherlock gently grabbed his wrist, leading him up to touch the ivory stomach. The first jolt of contact was all the teenager needed and soon he was using both hands to rub the soap all over the man’s body. They both giggling softly when the suction between John’s hand and Sherlock’s bicep caused a loud farting noise. After making sure the man’s torso was clean, the teen glanced down at the black hairs leading down to a fully erect cock jutting out from an even thicker bed of curls. He had seen it out of the corner of his eye while washing him, but now he was looking at the first mature cock he’d ever seen, _not counting porn of course._         

He refused to look intimidated though, because that would only validate his own inadequacies, so he grabbed some more soap and slowly worked his way down the trail of hair until he was gripping Sherlock’s hard cock. He heard a soft moan above him, bringing a pleased smile to his lips at the fact that he could cause the older man to make the same sounds as he did. He worked his hand up and down, just like Sherlock had done, until the tip was a bright red. The man pulled him away and suddenly pushed him against the wall, pushing his chest up against the boy’s back.

A bit freighted by the sudden force, John yelped and tried to push back until he felt a large hand come around his neglected cock. “Shhhh, this is what you want. I know it is,” he whispered in the boy’s ear and began rocking his hips slightly against John’s lower back. His nerves were calming once again when he felt a soapy hand rub along his neck and back, while the other was stroking over his ball sac. He felt the hand move along his spine, until it came to rest on his left arse cheek, squeezing the flesh a little.

“Sherlock-“ he was cut off as he inhaled sharply when he felt a finger brush over the muscle of his hole. He wanted to push away, to stop, but that would be childish. _What else did you expect to happen? You know what sex is idiot._

“Shhh, just relax,” came the smooth voice of the man leaning over him. All the attention given to his bullocks were lost in the fear and anticipation of that one finger resting in between his cheeks. Slowly he felt a strange stretch and then the finger slipped in, holding still. It was just strange more than anything, a tad painful yes, but weirdly enough it just felt like he had to use the loo. However, he wasn’t about to say that to the man who was now laying kissing on his nape and thrusting lazily on his arse cheek.

When the finger started to pull out, however, that was when a burning sensation spread through the inside of the canal. “Ah, ah,” and then it was shoved back in, then out a few times until there wasn’t much pain at all. _So this is sex?_  Then he felt a more uncomfortable stretch when Sherlock tried to put two fingers in instead of just one. “Ah, wait Sherlock don’t!” but his plea was too late, and the burning he felt before, intensified as the fingers sat unmoving inside of him. “Please take them out, it hurts,” the boy whined, his erection flagging slightly.

“You just need to relax John, if you don’t of course it’s going to hurt. Just breathe for me, yeah, that’s it,” Sherlock practically growled in his ear, thrusting faster into his leg. John’s feet were scrambling for purchase on the wet floor, when suddenly the two burning fingers hit something that made him yelp and his cock twitch back to life. “There you are!” Sherlock laughed, thrust his fingers again to hit the boy’s prostate.

“What…oh God, how did you-?” he still felt the over fullness and burning from the two fingers but the shock wave of pleasure every time Sherlock hit something inside him trumped all.

“Your prostate John, don’t they teach you anything in health class these days?” the older man tugged lightly on the tight bullocks between the boy’s legs but avoided the now hard cock.

“I must have missed the class where they said, ‘hey when you have anal sex make sure to hit the prostate ‘cause it feels amazing.’” John laughed, forgetting about the burning until Sherlock removed the finger and tried to add a third one. “Ahhh, no Sherlock that’s too much, wait ‘stop!’” the boys last word went up an octave as the man behind him worked the tips of three fingers into his small hole. He began to squirm and whimper, but Sherlock pressed his chest to John’s back, holding him in place and thrusting his fingers in time with his cock on the boy’s leg. “S-stop, it hurts, Sherlock, please,” the teen couldn’t stop the tears welding up in his eyes from the burning pain he felt in his anus. _Why won’t he stop?_

“Open up for me, John, my beautiful John. I need in, let me in,” Sherlock finally got all three fingers into the squirming boy. John barley heard the words in his ears but was confused when Sherlock said ‘I need in.’ He shrugged it off though when he felt the pleasure shoot through him again when one of the fingers hit that beautiful prostate. This time however, it only dampened the pain he felt, but the boy took deep breathes accepting that this was sex and what he was supposed to be feeling.

After what seemed like forever of that dull burn, Sherlock finally pulled out and John’s eyes widened when he felt something much wider press between his cheeks. “Are you ready to be mine, John?” the older man whispered in his ear.

_No! No, I am not ready for this!_ “Sherlock, wait, I-I don’t think I want to do this yet.” John stuttered out and was completely thrown off by what the man behind him whispered next.

“I know.” With that, he started pushing his much bigger than three fingers cock into the boy’s red hole.

“Sherlock, I said stop, get off me! Ahh, you’re hurting me, please stop!” John moved his hand away from the wall to push the hips away, but was halted when one of Sherlock’s large hands grabbed both of his, holding them hostage above his head against the tile wall. “Let go of me, what ar-ahhh” his voice cracked as he felt himself being penetrated, the burn and stretch was unbelievable, much more painful that the fingers.

“Shhh, relax John, you want this, you told me,” Sherlock cooed stroking the now flaccid cock in his hand. The boy’s mouth shot open in a silent scream when he felt his mate was eight inches deep inside him, taking his virginity. _That’s it, I’m no longer a virgin…huh._

“Please pullout it hurts,” John tried to move his hand, but when they were held fast he tried to buck against the man to get him off, but only succeeded in causing more pain to his hyperextended ring of muscle.

“I know it does, but the worst is over, I’m in you now and you’ll never have to feel that pain again.” Sherlock gently rocked his hips, bringing a grunt from them both, one of pleasure and one of pain. “You like having me in you don’t you John, you said I could come in you,” he began pulling his cock out, “and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Sh-Sherlock,” the teen’s cheeks were bright pink, as was his chest, from arousal, pain, and the hot water still beating down on them. He couldn’t imagine this ever feeling good, the uncomfortable fullness he felt on the inside and the burn at the entrance muscle was horrible.

“I said relax John, I’m not trying to hurt you but you’re hurting yourself from worrying too much,” Sherlock commanded, his tone scared the teen who had never heard the man snap at him before.

“I-I’m trying, I’m sorry, please just slow down,” John begged and was met with a deep kiss, calming him enough to focus on the hand bringing him to full hardness again.

“Good boy, that’s it,” he praised and John was disturbed at how much he soaked it up, acting like balm on the soreness in his arse. “Come for me John, come while I’m inside of you.”

When Sherlock bent the boy’s front down slightly, thrusting in deeper, John felt the cock hit his prostate repentantly. “Come on, show me you love me John, show me,” Sherlock was thrusting so fast, the teen could have sworn his spine would snap in half at any moment. But soon, the combination of the wanking, continued stimulation to his prostate, and the dulling burn inside him, John shouted as he came all over the wall. He panted, watching his white come and pink water wash down towards the drain. _Am I bleeding?_

“Yes!” Sherlock shouted behind him, thrusting in so deep, John screamed in pain, but was gathered up to the man’s chest as soon as it was over. He had felt the man’s cock twitch a bit but it was oddly unsatisfying, what with everybody always begging in the pornos, ‘oh, please I want to feel you come in me’ or ‘don’t you like the way my come feels inside you.’ Honestly, he wouldn’t have known if Sherlock hadn’t shouted and was now holding him to his chest. “I’m inside you now, forever, John. I love you.”

“I love you too,” John whispered over the water noise and he meant it too. His arse hurt yes, he was still pissed and hurt that Sherlock didn’t stop, but other than that he didn’t feel any different and it did feel nice to his over sensitive skin being held. “Ah,” he yelp when Sherlock slowly slid out, giving him a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry, here let me clean you up, yeah. Then we can go snuggle before bed.” John nodded slowly, exhausted from having two orgasms, and let Sherlock move him around like a rag doll. “I promise it won’t hurt next time, love, you know I would never intentionally put you through pain. That’s just how it always feels the first time, understand?”

“Yeah,” John agreed because he remembered all the videos he’d watched with the bottoms moaning and sometimes crying. That was just sex and if Sherlock said it would get better than it would, because he knew a lot more about it. “Hurts,” John whimpered when it felt like soap was being rubbed into a raw cut on his bum. He tried to look down when he thought he saw more red flowing down the drain, but Sherlock grabbed his chin and coaxed him into a deep soothing kiss.

“I know, but Sherlock will make it all better. I promise,” the man smiled as he finished washing off the boy, paying extra care over his arse, cock, and bullocks. “All done, let’s get you dried off, yeah?” Sherlock did as he said, holding John tight to his side, while the boy held onto his torso for dear life, until he dried him off and picked him up bridal style.

“Hey,” John squealed but lay lax in the man’s arms, relishing in the warmth and smooth skin. “I can walk you know.”

“I know,” he said but continued carrying him to the bed, then gently laid him down and got in behind the small boy. It was strange at first, being naked with another man holding him from behind, but knowing what he just experienced with Sherlock, John didn’t want to be away from the man even for a second. “I’m never going to let you go,” he heard the deep voice whisper in his ear and wondered if he wanted that too. He felt cold now if the man wasn’t holding him and John wondered, as he drifted to sleep, if it was because Sherlock had taken something from him that used to keep him warm.            

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there it is...I hope you enjoyed and the next chapter will be parallel to this one but from Sherlock's POV. So it will be the same scene and dialog, however, Sherlock hears some things that aren't necessarily accurate and you'll find out a little more about his plans for his John. 
> 
> Anyways, I have finally chosen which ending I want to go with and I think it will please most of you and I'm really happy with it too. There will be three more chapters, unless I get carried away, until the end, but if Sherlock's last line is anything to go by...sorry, I've said to much already(:


	8. So He Won't Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's POV during their Chapter 7.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everybody! Well, you can all than my hubby for getting sick because we were planning on going out so I wouldn't be able to write this chapter until Monday. Now, however, we're both at home and he's throwing up and I'm drinking beer writing this fic. LOL. 
> 
> IMPORTANT PLEASE READ: This is the same notice I used for the last chapter  
> Okay, so this is it guys. Sherlock's POV of his first sexual encounter with John. It is not as bad as I originally thought it was going to be, but by the end it is gets pretty intense. So please, PLEASE, look at the updated tags and know that this is dub-con verging on rape because John is a minor and unsure. If you are easily triggered by these things, DO NOT READ. I do not wish to upset or trigger somebody inadvertently, so just be aware of what you are getting into.
> 
> Please enjoy and as always I would love to hear your comments on the latest update! Have a great weekend.

Chapter 8 – So He Won’t Break

“Would you like some tea or I think I have some Coke if you’d prefer?” Sherlock called from the kitchen to the jittery boy sitting on his couch. He already had two Newcastles in his hands, but thought it would be best to just spring it on him at the last minute like it was a treat. It was obvious John was still nervous around him, but every time the boy shifted in his seat, the detective could tell he was trying to hide the erection caused by the older man.

“Ummm, yeah a Coke sounds great,” John yelled, causing Sherlock to smirk when he had even caused the boys voice to crack. He knew exactly how to use that anxiety to his advantage, and would do so beautifully. Sherlock made his move, striding gracefully into the living room holding the Ale he’d always intended to serve.

“Oh wait, I have some Newcastle, too. Have you ever tried it?” _Of course not. Your mother says you’re too young. But not tonight, my dear John._

“Well, thanks but mum says I’m too young still. Like, kids make stupid decisions already and don’t need beer to help ‘em, or something like that. I-I should probably-“ John began to stutter and Sherlock saw his mistake a second too late. However, he already has the boy in his flat and there was no possible way a simple comment on age would change that. As always, the mistake became his greatest weapon.

“What are you talking about? It’s not like you’re going driving or walking out in public for the rest of the night.” Sherlock smiled, watching as John listened intently on every word that came out of his mouth. He could tell the boy was thinking about what their lips would be doing later. “Drinking’s not a big deal, John, you and I drinking one is going to have the same effect on both of us, age has nothing to do with it.” When John bowed his head in submission and understanding, the detective knew the potential disaster was diverted and was even rewarded with one of his boy’s nervous rambles.  

“No, that makes since. Thank you, this…umm, well this is my first beer. Actually no, I accidentally took a sip of my mom’s once ‘cause I thought it was Root Beer, but I spit it out before I swallowed it.”

Sherlock just smiled at the adorable boy that was now his, a wave of lust shooting through him as their fingers touched when he passed over the bottle. He clinked their glasses together, planting another seed in the teen’s receptive mind, “Well then, to new mates and new experiences.” _Oh John, I’m going to show you so many new experiences._

His John smiled back with adoration in his eyes, “cheers,” he said, but as soon as he took a sip, the smile faded and Sherlock could tell he was not a fan. However, even if he could coax the boy into drinking half the bottle, with his low tolerance level, it would relax him enough to stop jiggling his small knee. “It’s not bad, I guess but I don’t see how people can drink this one with dinners and stuff.” 

Sherlock took the opportunity to take a seat next to his lover again, pressing up against his body was like lying in front of a calm fire during a winter night. It took every ounce of self-control not to capture John’s lips and take what was his. “Well there are hundreds if not thousands of beers around the world for you to try. That’s what’s cool about trying new things and having as many experiences as you can, yeah? Well, I don’t…that’s what I think at least.” The detective knew there was a fine line between giving advice as an adult to a child and talking about things as friends, so he decided to add a bit of second guessing himself to appear as unsure as the boy sitting across from him.

“Yeah, I totally agree with you mate!” John chimed in, taking extra care to reassure his friend they were on the same page. “That’s why I was so excited when we talked about these scholarships. Uni will be awesome, I just know it!” Sherlock saw the boy’s pupils dilate even more and the fact that he quickly turned his attention back to the papers meant he was embarrassed by how turned on the older man made him feel. Adding to the flames in the youths lust filled mind, every few seconds the detective would shift his leg, creating the slightest bit of friction between them as they filled out forms. “Can I use the loo?” The teen finally broke.

“Yeah, of course, it’s right over there, that beer will do that to ya, yeah?” He called, trying to act like he didn’t know John was about to have a panic attack as the boy scurried away.

“Yeah, right,” he barked out a laugh, then locked himself in the bathroom. He would give the boy five minutes before he went to check on him. It was important for teenagers to have their time alone, at least that’s what the internet said, and Sherlock could respect that, for now. After all, John came to him, not the other way around, which made the boy his to care for. This little private time proved to the older man that indeed, John was still a child and because of that, the boy had no idea what he wanted. Lucky for him though, his Sherlock knew exactly what the boy needed and would give it willingly, over and over again.

He could just imagine the young mind trying to sort through everything that had happened today. Try and try as he might, John would never be able to be mad at the man he loved. Sherlock had made sure to plant many seeds, more like traps really, in his mind, practically conditioning the boy to become aroused when he heard the deep voice of his lover. John’s mind was so beautifully and intricately crafted that it was like a hit of the most euphoric drug Sherlock could ever imagine every time he dove in to manipulate the small strings just so.  

After he decided John had had enough alone time, Sherlock got up and called him back to where he belonged. “John? John, are you okay in there?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’ll just be a minute,” he heard John’s shaky voice from inside his little sanctuary and knew that he was right in predicting the boy’s panic attack. A moment later, John stepped out of the room and Sherlock noticed how much he loomed over the boy. He could feel the gaze upon his chest, knowing how small John must be feeling and thought it best to move back over to a sitting position. He placed his hand on the small bony shoulder, leading him back over to start the next phase of their plan.

“Are you alright? Was it the soup I made?” The detective laughed, once again successfully using sarcasm to bring John back out of his thoughts to only focus on his feelings.

“Ha! No, it was delicious, I was just…never mind, I’m fine let’s get back to the applications, yeah?” John tried to brush it off, refocusing on the papers.

The boy looked surprisingly more shaken than the detective had anticipated. No problem. Quickly, Sherlock changed to another scenario and reached out to grab John’s chin. “John, look at me. Please tell me what’s wrong.” For a moment, he thought the boy was going to break down right in front of him, which wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen and Sherlock might enjoy putting the pieced back right where he wanted them. We’re mates, best mates, and I want you to know you can tell me anything.” _I need to know everything, John._

“I-I just don’t know what I’m feeling…no I don’t mean that I just-ugh, I’m sorry,” John tried to look away from him, but Sherlock refused to let go of his tight grasp on the small chin, forcing the boy to look at him. There was so much insecurity in those dark blue eyes, more so even than the pictures had portrayed. For a moment, the man became angry at any who would try and convince his John he was anything less than perfect…but then, a light bulb went off in his head and the scenario changed again.

Instead of acting more experienced than John, which he realized somewhat intimidated the boy, he would act just as nervous, causing the roles to change and his sweet boy would take the role of comforter. “I understand John, it’s okay to be nervous in new situations. Quite honestly, I’m a bit shaken too,” Sherlock lowered his intense glare, dropping his hand away from John’s chin and waiting for the response he knew would come. _In three, two, one…_

“You are? But this isn’t your first time? I’ve never even…”

“With you it is. John, for some reason being around you is different than the other men I’ve been with. You are so young and vibrant and just so much wiser beyond your years…you’re perfect John. I just wish I could make you see that.” _You will see it, even if I have to make you, John._ Then, the most delightful noise came from the small boy sitting beside him. John giggled at the compliment he’d been given, then covered his face in embarrassment, which might have even be cuter than the giggle.

However, he wouldn’t allow his boy to hide anything from him, now that they were together. “No don’t hide, you’re adorable when you’re embarrassed,” he said, pulling the small hands away and cradling them in his larger one. Slowly working into the next part of their night, Sherlock reached up and cupped John’s cheek for the first time. The soft peach fuzz, the heated skin, and the sweet sigh that came from the boy’s throat all washed through the detective in a wave of bliss, calming even the most violent of storms in his mind.

After the sigh, he made his move, adding slight pressure on the boys cheek so he couldn’t pull away from the man’s lips. Sherlock started slowly, coaxing the teen into the act with soft gently touches, until he heard another moan and began deepening the possession he had over John’s lips. Giving a few licks to the small puckered lips, as a request for entrance, Sherlock almost tackled the boy right then when he opened so beautifully without hesitation.

Taking full advantage of the invitation he was given, the older man moved his tongue in to taste the exquisite delicacy that was his John. Once in, he didn’t even have to fight for dominance _because you want me to possess you, don’t you John?_ After a minute or so, Sherlock felt the small body relax even further and decided it was time to continue. Moving his hand slowly, as to not startle the boy, from the heated cheek to a bony shoulder and began to apply slight pressure, urging John to give in further.

As expected though, the inexperienced teen stiffened at the gesture, halting their kiss. Sherlock had planned for this and knew the best part about having his John was that he was terrified but would trust his friend enough to let go. He began laying kisses along the sweaty throat, distracting the boy from his own mind to let Sherlock do his thinking for him. “Shhh, trust me,” he whispered and decided to add an extra jolt to the boy’s cock by nibbling the baby soft skin right behind his ear.

John’s eyes told him he had given into his desires and with just a little bit more pressure, the boy was under him. Knowing it was too soon to press their hips together to show John how hard he was for him, the older man only hovered above the couch, strategically placing his knee in between the boy’s legs for extra friction later. They kissed for a moment until he felt tentative hands splaying out over his flanks. At that moment he knew his John would always surprise him and challenge his deductions. Soon, he felt one of the hands slowly move over his rapidly beating heart and smiled down at the curious teenager below him.

Following suit, he moved his hand over the panting chest below him, feeling his heart beating a million miles a minute. Still smiling, Sherlock began to lower himself to trap John below his body weight, rocking his hips slightly to give a blissful distraction. “Feels good doesn’t it?” the older man whispered, and if the look on the teens face was anything to go by, yes, yes it did feel good. His John nodded but still refused to make eye contact, which needed to be rectified immediately. “You can trust me, John, I won’t hurt you. Ever.” _I love you John and I don’t hurt what’s mine._

“I trust you,” he heard from below him and when John finally made eye contact he could see that look in his eye again that meant he was focusing on his faults instead of Sherlock. It was time to teach John Hamish Watson a lesson in self-worth. The detective gave a sharp thrust with his hips, feeling the boy’s smaller hard cock rub up against his larger one and the stomach below him sucked in from the shock.

“What have I told you about thinking bad about yourself?” Sherlock chided, slowly increasing the speed of his hips feeling John’s muscles stiffen below him, preparing for an orgasm. “You are beautiful,” he gave a small nip to prove his point but still provided strong friction against their pants, “and smart,” another bite and rock, “and strong,” and again, “and I love you more than anything in this world!”

With one more sharp thrust, Sherlock felt the young body go ridged and the cock touching him jerked slightly in its confines. The sounds escaping the boy’s throat were magnificent, pumping more blood than the man thought was possible to his aching cock. He felt hands on his shoulders trying to push him off. Looking down, he saw how panicked John had become from spilling in his pants, bringing another jolt of lust at the obvious fact that this was the first time his boy had ever come along with someone else. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ John cried out, but the only result was Sherlock going in for another kiss and rutting as hard as he could against the boy’s thigh, searching for his own release.

“What did I do to deserve you, John?” he moaned, feeling his cock growing harder, Sherlock gave a few more rough thrusts and came with a loud  grunt, falling limp on the boy who let him. After a few moments however, the detective could tell the teenager was becoming uncomfortable after the halo of their orgasms faded, so Sherlock popped up preparing for act two. “I think we kind of ruined our clothes, did you bring pajamas with you or do you need to borrow some of mine?” He stood up, watching the boy closely and was pleased to see there was a hint of sadness at the loss of his lover’s warmth in his features.

“No, I brought some. I’ll go change,” his small voice said as he walked towards the hall way.

His boy’s displeasure opened a door of opportunity and Sherlock took it with the swiftness of a snake striking its prey. _But you’re not my prey if you are already mine, isn’t that right love?_ “John?” he took a step towards his boy, “I think I might actually need a shower, do you…um, well you don’t have to, but I’m sure you feel pretty gooey too. If you wanted I could wash you, you know like give you a massage. I’m sure your back is soar from lying on the couch. Like I said you don’t have to, but…” It amazed the detective how quickly John responded to him when the teen thought Sherlock was having second thoughts or nervous. If that was the case, he could provide a whole vat of honey for his little fly to feast on.

“No, I mean, yeah, I mean, sure I would like that,” John stuttered out, trying to reassure his lover that he would want nothing more than to bathe with him. _So perfect, even when you are predictable my sweet boy._

“Wonderful, come on it’s right here. You go ahead and get in, I’ll find another towel and flannel for you.” He followed behind the boy until he tentatively walked into the bedroom, _our bedroom,_ and Sherlock made his way to the spare room to grab the extra towel he had prepared for this evening. Once he located the materials they would need, he listened for John to turn on the tap and get in. It was obvious the teen was self-conscious and it wouldn’t do to scare him from taking off his clothes and getting into the shower. Yes, it would be much easier for now to let John undress in private and wait until he is caged in the shower waiting for Sherlock to come and take him. The detective calmed his mind with the promise there would be plenty of time for examining the gorgeous young body later.   

As soon as he heard the water turn on and the shower door close, he made his move back to the bathroom. “You okay?”

“Uhhh, yeah, it’s nice,” he heard John call over the water hitting the tiles. When he finally stepped in, he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face when the teenager had his back turned, embarrassed about showing the older man his body. Although he didn’t agree with John’s self-depreciation, Sherlock knew they would work on it later and now was the perfect time to reassure his boy that he was perfect.

“You are gorgeous John, please let me see you,” Sherlock whispered, placing a hand on the shivering boy’s shoulder, applying pressure enough to coax him into turning around. When he did, the small eyes were tightly closed and his shivering turned to violent shaking. _Oh, this will not do at all!_ “It’s okay,” he cooed, pulling the boy into his tight embrace, swearing to himself right then and there that he would never let John go again. There was really no point in sending his boy back into a world that taught him to think so poorly of himself and made him so scared of being with someone he loves. _No, that would not do at all._ “How do you not know how beautiful you are?” 

It sent a rush to his cock, feeling how small and helpless the boy was in his arms. Feeling the shallow breathing on his warm back, the half hard cock pressed up against his leg, even the warm breathes on his chest paved the way to his love for John. When the teenager had finally calmed, he held him out at arm’s length to catalog every single feature in the growing room for John in his mind palace. His thin chest, with just a hint of pectoral muscles coming in, his stomach was flat but with small definition from his football practices, instead of his hips going in they lined up perfectly with his broadening shoulders, his arms were a tad too long for his body still but well-toned, and finally what he had tried to hide from his Sherlock, a half hard cock with the tip just peeking out at him from the foreskin and fine blonde hairs just starting to cluster all around his drawn up testicles. He noted every single freckle and hair, stowing it away for safe keeping in the pent house sweet of his mind palace.

Now, he needed to touch, “may I wash you?” he asked and was met with a small nod. Moving as slowly as his lust would let him, Sherlock poured some bath soap into his palm and began rubbing into the smooth tan skin. He placed his hand on the back of his John’s neck, ensure the boy wouldn’t try to pull away in this moment of first real contact. He moved the soap all over the young body, meandering down until he rested just at John’s pelvic bone. Dipping his hand a few inches lower, Sherlock began tickling and playing with the small hairs, teasing the boy in his grasp, until John dropped his head on the man’s chest in surrender.

“You like that? How about this?” Sherlock gently wrapped his hand around the almost full cock, in awe of how his entire hand enveloped it, and began stroking slowly.

“Sh-Sherlock,” he heard John whimper as he played with the foreskin, wondering briefly how John liked to wank himself. Yes, he’d seen the video, but the stupid technology wouldn’t allow him to see exactly how his boy liked to pleasure himself. It was no matter though, because John was an open book when it came to these new sensations Sherlock was giving him, and it was evident what the boy liked and didn’t like. And John definitely liked this part. After a few minutes though, he could feel the boy tensing, approaching orgasm, so he pulled away, making the boy yearn for more of what only Sherlock could provide.

“All in good time,” he chuckled watching John thrust his hips for attention, “how about you wash me off before we run out of hot water, yeah?” The situation he had moved John into would never allow for anything other than an affirmative answer, but he waited patiently until the boy gathered his courage and poured some soap in his hand. He saw hesitation sparkle through those dark blue eyes and decided to give the little bird a kick out his nest, grabbing the small wrist and placing it on his chest.

The little nudge worked like magic and soon, John was washing the older man’s entire upper body. They even laughed like old lovers when the soap made a squish noise while the warm hand was massaging his pale bicep. More hesitation when the teen realized he would now have to follow in Sherlock’s footsteps and wash the much larger cock. He couldn’t have been prouder of his boy though, who tried desperately to hide his fear and took Sherlock’s full member in his hand.  

The small hand felt amazing on him, tentative and inexperienced yes, but the fact that he didn’t even ask John to jerk him off made pleasure surge through him. When he felt his bullocks tighten from the boy having his way with him, Sherlock couldn’t stand it anymore and pulled John away and pressed him up against the wall. He felt the smooth warm back press back against his chest, realizing once again how much taller he was than the boy who loved him.

He heard a sharp groan of lust from the boy and rewarded him by stroking over his cock. “Shhhh, this is what you want. I know it is,” Sherlock cooed, rutting against the boy’s spine, spikes of electricity shot through him while he rubbed John’s back, slowly working his way down to the ultimate goal. Still rolling the tight sac in his hand, Sherlock brought his hand down to the beautiful smooth arse, kneading the flesh slightly.

“Sherlock,” the boy moaned when the detective finally touched the tight puckered hole he wanted from the first moment he talked to John in that chat room. It was all down to this final scene and the play would be over and John would finally be his.

“Shhh, just relax,” he continued his distraction by playing with his perineum and sac, as John let one index finger inside. The inner walls clenched around him, holding his finger tightly inside, adjusting to accommodate the man he loved. A searing heat traveled from his hand to his groin as he calmed the panting boy below him with kisses over his neck. Sherlock couldn’t wait any longer and began pulling out and pushing back in, opening up the inexperienced hole for him.

“Ah, ah!” the boy groaned again at the pleasure his Sherlock was giving him, eager for what was to come. The detective agreed, preparing to add a second finger. “Ah, wait Sherlock don’t!” He shoved both fingers inside, rutting roughly a few times against the boy’s arse again, enjoying how the tight muscle surrounding his knuckles twitched around him. His boy was panting and moaning now and Sherlock could tell he was no longer relaxed. “Please take them out, it hurts,” John cried out, but the man knew what was best for the teenager, even if he didn’t.

“You just need to relax John, if you don’t of course it’s going to hurt. Just breathe for me, yeah, that’s it,” Sherlock tried to calm him enough until he could find the prostate that would prove to the boy he was foolish for asking to stop. When he felt the struggling cease and the small cock pop back to life, he knew he had found it. “There you are!” Giving a few quick thrusts hitting the nerve dead on to prove his point.  

“What…oh God, how did you-?”

“Your prostate John, don’t they teach you anything in health class these days?” He tugged on the full bullocks in his hands, wondering briefly what they would taste like.

“I must have missed the class where they said, ‘hey when you have anal sex make sure to hit the prostate ‘cause it feels amazing.’” Suddenly, he felt John relax and enjoy what was being given to him and added in a third finger for the final step before he would take him. “Ahhh, no Sherlock that’s too much, wait ‘stop!’” He heard John yell but he knew everything was fine and his boy was just scared of what was happening. Soon he would be begging Sherlock to fill him up.

When John began to try and squirm away, that was when Sherlock had to step in before  he hurt himself. Pressing his large chest against him, Sherlock shoved him up against the wall, feeling how the boy was pinned easily while he opened him up. “S-stop, it hurts, Sherlock, please,” John cried again, but it didn’t matter, they were too far in this and there was no possible way he could pull away from that oasis he’d found.

“Open up for me, John, my beautiful John. I need in, let me in,” Sherlock whispered as John finally listened and opened up to allow the full three fingers. It was so tight and hot, the detective couldn’t imagine what it was going to be like to have his cock inside of John, letting the boy hold him. He stroked his fingers in time with the thrusts of his hips, waiting and revving up like a race car at a pit stop, preparing for their final piece of the puzzle. Finally, he pulled out his fingers, taking his achingly hard cock in his hand and lining up for home. “Are you ready to be mine, John?” Although, it did seem pointless to ask looking at the position they were both in at that second, but he wanted his boy to be ready to feel every inch of him.

“Sherlock, wait, I-I don’t think I want to do this yet,” John cried out like Sherlock knew he would eventually, the realization of how completely owned he was, spilling over in a frightening mess. He was just a boy, though; he wouldn’t hold it against him for being afraid of the unknown. Soon, he would learn to trust in his lover, who would do what was best for him, but for now, Sherlock would just have to prove it to him.

“I know,” he whispered and forced his way past the only resistance keeping him away from what was his.

“Sherlock, I said stop, get off me! Ahh, you’re hurting me, please stop!” In his panic, John reached around and tried to push at the hips behind him and that was unacceptable. Sherlock grabbed the flimsy hands and held them up against the tile wall until John could learn to behave himself. “Let go of me, what ar-ahhh” The boy’s screams synced perfectly as he watched his cock breach and enter the warm heat that would always be his.

He knew the stretch would hurt, that was unavoidable for the first time, but he took care of his boy, slowly stroking the soft penis between his fingers, feeling a bit of life come back at his touch. “Shhh, relax John, you want this, you told me,” Sherlock cooed, giving John what the boy had imagined, as his entire cock sunk into that hole where nobody else had ever been and nobody except him would ever go. _Mine, finally mine._ He saw a few drops of blood drip down the boy’s leg from the small tears his cock had caused, christening their shower and proving the boy had been taken.

“Please pullout it hurts,” John sobbed, but Sherlock observed the trembling hips jerked back towards him, subconsciously seeking out the pleasure the man could give him. He stood there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being inside that warm twitching canal, imagining how full, how complete John must feel now that he had his lover all the way inside of him.  

“I know it does, but the worst is over, I’m in you now and you’ll never have to feel that pain again.” It was the truth too, Sherlock would never let him feel the emotional agony that John seemed to carry with him and if anybody ever tried to hurt him, he would make sure the police never found their body.

“Sh-Sherlock,” John cried again, tightening up around the cock that was stretching him open. He could feel the boy tensing even more, forcing Sherlock to hurt him. That was what the teenager always did though, thought too much and ended up only hurting him and the one he loved. _That ends now, John. You will not be allowed to hurt yourself through me._

“I said relax John, I’m not trying to hurt you but you’re hurting yourself from worrying too much,” he snapped at the boy, hating himself for it but knew that tough love was sometimes the only way to get through to his stubborn boy.

“I-I’m trying, I’m sorry, please just slow down,” John had become fully hard in his hand now that he was finally listening to the older man’s instruction. Rewarding him for finally listening and giving in, Sherlock pulled him into a deep kiss.

“Good boy, that’s it,” Sherlock cooed in his ear, feeling how the hard cock twitched at the praise. “Come for me John, come while I’m inside of you,” he growled, becoming lost in the sensation of thrusting in and out of the tightness. “Come on, show me you love me John, show me,” his hips bucking harsher, showing John how much he was being possessed, forcing the come out of him. _That is my come. All of it, give it to me John!_ The teen proved his love with a loud shout and Sherlock held the cock tight, feeling the pulsing seed leave his body in waves.

The boy’s orgasm caused the walls inside to contract dramatically, squeezing and begging Sherlock to replace the seed that was dispensed only moments ago. _Out with the old, in with the new._ “Yes!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, pushing himself deep inside aiming for John’s heart as he came over and over again, both giving the boy what he needed and taking from him what would sate his mind. The high he had received from this one simple act made his mind feel like it didn’t even exist, as if the raging wars amongst his lobes had never even happened. He was hooked on the perfect drug that was wrapped in his arms. “I’m inside you now, forever, John. I love you.”

“I love you too,” John whispered without hesitation, bringing Sherlock to hug him closer. However, the water was starting to turn colder and his fingers where becoming prunes, so the detective decided it was time for bed. He pulled out gently, resulting in an “Ah,” from John at the loss and empty feeling he was surely experiencing.

“Sorry, here let me clean you up, yeah. Then we can go snuggle before bed,” Sherlock smiled down at the boy, who looked warn out and poured some soap in his hand. “I promise it won’t hurt next time, love, you know I would never intentionally put you through pain. That’s just how it always feels the first time, understand?” He knew it would still hurt, it almost always would, but as John got older and their love grew, it would be all the boy wanted.

“Yeah,” he said, about to fall asleep from Sherlock washing over his body. He slowly ran the wet flannel down his back and gently over his red bum, pulling the cheeks apart a little to see tiny traces of blood from his claiming. He felt bad that he had to hurt his John, but it had to be done and the oasis he craved from the boy was now inside of him too. “Hurts,” he whimpered, as Sherlock washed the blood away, making him new and whole again. The boy tried to look at the blood coming from him, but that wouldn’t do any good for either of them, so he pulled him into a sensual kiss.

“I know, but Sherlock will make it all better. I promise,” he promised with all his heart and mind, finishing cleaning the boy to his satisfaction, never rubbing too hard over the oversensitive areas. “All done, let’s get you dried off, yeah?” John held onto him like a lifeline as they dried off and Sherlock held him just as tight, never letting go of the pieces he had broken the boy into.

On a whim, Sherlock picked up the naked boy, carrying him over to their bed. “Hey, I can walk you know,” the teen scoffed but they both knew he didn’t mean it.

“I know,” was all the detective said before lying his lover into bed and curling around him, protecting him from anybody who would try to hurt him. The warm body next to him was rigid for only ten point nine seconds and then melted into their spooning position with a sigh. He couldn’t help the promise that escaped his lips, “I’m never going to let you go.” John was the most euphoric drug he’d ever had and the best part was he never ran out of ‘John.’ Sure, the teenager wouldn’t understand at first, but that was okay because he had Sherlock to watch out for him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! Only two more chapters to go(:


	9. Keep Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's POV after their first night together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you again for all the comments and kudos. I can't believe I've received over 100 kudos for this little fic. 
> 
> This chapter has some dub-con verging on non-con oral sex, so please check the tags and know what you are about to read is dark and disturbing. If you've made it this far though, it is not as upsetting as the last two chapters. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!!

Chapter 9 – Keep Me

John woke up with a warm pressure on his chest and a throbbing pain in his arse. Warm breath ghosted over his throat, causing goose bumps to rise over his arms and chest. Suddenly, as if the Devil himself had rushed into his mind and turned on the light, John remembered everything that happened last night. How Sherlock had lied to him about his age, how he loved kissing Sherlock, the way Sherlock had gently washed him, told him he was beautiful and special, how Sherlock hadn’t stopped when John was crying out for him to pull out. _Was I…? Did Sherlock…? No, he didn’t rape me, did he? It felt sort of nice after a while but I did tell him to stop, what does that mean?_

“Good morning,” a deep voice rumbled from near his chest. When John looked down, he saw the man who had taken his virginity staring up at him with a wide sleepy smile. Sherlock had one lanky arm sprawled over John’s bare stomach, while the other was snug under the small back and his messy brown curls cascaded over his chest. It was comforting to know he hadn’t been abandoned after last night, ensuring him that the older man’s agenda was not to shag and flee with some kid he’d found on the internet.

“Good morning,” John finally whispered, bringing a shy smile to his face when Sherlock began kissing from his right nipple to his left. “Wh-what are you doing?” He stuttered out, ashamed at how quickly his hips began to thrust slightly from the little display of infection. His cock was already hard from just waking up but his arse was so sore, there was no way he was going to let Sherlock do what they did last night. “Sherlock, please it hurts too much from last night.”

“What does? I didn’t even touch your nipples last night and your cock seems to be enjoying itself.” Sherlock mumbled, moving his head lower, biting the soft sensitive skin over his ribs and belly.

“No, no, I mean my-“ John stopped himself, wondering what would happen if he told Sherlock ‘no.’ If last night was any indication, the man would do whatever he wanted to John, whether he had to hold him down or not. What if this time, he’d had enough and decided he didn’t want to be friends with someone who was a weak kid and complained all the time? _I don’t want him to leave me._

“Oh, of course, it was your first time, how could I be so unobservant. I’m sure your arse is unbelievably sore, yeah? I’m sorry I hurt you, John, but that’s how it always feels after the first time.” Sherlock gave an odd sympathetic smile, reaching up to plant a soft kiss just on the teenager’s nose. John couldn’t stop the smile or the warm rush of heat coursing through his body when those silver eyes gazed down at him, lust and love in their depths. “However, my John, you are quite a lucky lad. Do you know why?” The older man began crawling down the small body with a predatory grin plastered over his features. If the teenager was honest with himself, the look terrified him, but made his cock twitch, which in itself was confusing as hell.

“W-why?”

“Because you,” his mop of curls disappeared underneath the ruby covers, “have a Sherlock to make you feel all better.” The deep voice was muffled and John only had a second to wonder what the man was doing until he felt something warm and wet engulf his entire cock. His spine arced off the bed, the only thing keeping him from floating were two large hands holding onto his hips. Sherlock kept him safe, Sherlock kept him from floating away and never coming back.

“Holy shi-ite!” His young voice cracked when he felt something, most likely a finger, press the piece of flesh just under his bullocks and start to rub. Using the last bit of blood left in his brain, John was able to coordinate his limbs to throw back the blanket and take in the image of a beautiful man staring up at him while taking his hard cock deep into his mouth. The physicality of it was beyond bliss but the emotions that ran through John’s young lust clouded mind where even better. Even though Sherlock had physically hurt him last night, _only once really,_ the older man was now making amends tenfold.

When he’d told Sherlock his arse hurt, the teenager had expected an eye roll at best but now, the older man was sucking him off without hesitation and denying himself pleasure to take care of the one he’d hurt. That fact alone made his body stiffen, his balls tighten up, and he felt Sherlock swallow around him, practically making his vision go white. After he’d rode through the spasms of his orgasm, Sherlock grinned up at him, wiping the glossy liquid from his chin. The lanky man crawled back up, lying his whole body over the boy and stroked his hair idly. Once again, John was in awe at how being squashed between Sherlock and the bed didn’t make him feel Closter phobic, but instead he felt safe and tucked away from the world.

“You taste exquisite, John. Just like I knew you would,” Sherlock hovered his lips just above the dazed teen. “Taste yourself on me,” he whispered, then descended upon John’s lips and after a moment of hesitation, he parted his small lips to allow the older man inside. It did taste slightly different, John noticed, whether it was weird morning breath or his come he didn’t know. The strange taste wasn’t bad and Sherlock seemed to like it, which definitely wasn’t a bad thing. So John continued to kiss until he was out of breath.

They stared at each other for a long time, until John realized how unacceptably rude he was being. After Sherlock was so understanding about his soreness, hell the man didn’t even make fun of him, the least he could do was repay him. “Can-can I taste you?” The words came from his mouth before he could stop himself. His terror and uncertainty was washed away, however, when he saw the delight in those silver eyes above him.

“I would love that, John. Have you…well, have you ever given one before?” Sherlock rolled over, bringing John with him so he lie on top of the broad chest, bracing his arms on either side and straddling the man’s thin waist. Originally, he was planning on just winging it and trying his best to copy what Sherlock had done to him instead of admitting more inexperience. He nodded his head, not meeting the man’s gaze. “Then I’m honored, it’s okay,” he cooed, running a hand through the bed head victim that was John’s blonde hair. “You don’t have to rush, take all the time you need, yeah. We have all the time in the world now, John.” _Well, technically no we don’t because it’s Sunday._ But, he kept his thoughts to himself, not wanting to ruin the romantic gesture.

He worked his way south, building up his courage enough to kiss the ivory belly as it moved up and down slowly. A moan echoed from the head of the bed, instilling more nerve until he reached a trail of dark hairs leading down to a very hard, very large cock resting on a bed of wiry curls. He hadn’t realized how long he’d been staring at what was about to be in his mouth until a large warm hand settled on the back of his neck, causing him to jump slightly. “It’s alright, it’s not going to bite you,” Sherlock chuckled and that sweet sound brought him back again to the here and now.

With the gentle hand on his neck, John took the twitching and engorged flesh in his hand, pulling the foreskin back and forth a few times. Giving a quick glance up at Sherlock, who was staring intently down at what was about to happen, and then took just the tip in his mouth. “John,” the man groaned, which tremendously built up the teenagers confidence enough that he started sucking and licking lightly while moving his hand up and down. “Suck a little harder, no teeth though, be careful,” Sherlock instructed in a gravelly voice, which made John want to do better. There was no way he would be able to take the entire cock into his mouth like the older man had done for him, but he would take as much as he could, to prove to Sherlock he could be good at something.

To John’s surprise, the flesh in his mouth just tasted like clean hot skin. Luckily they had both cleaned off, _well Sherlock cleaned us because I was too zombied out to do anything last night,_ because the thought of where this cock had been last night would have been disgusting to put into his mouth. The warm throbbing was calming and he continued to suck as far down as he could, without pushing too far down into his throat. Once, he got a bit too far down when Sherlock accidentally thrust his hips up, causing him to gag slightly and tears to form in his eyes. He remembered he’d done the same thing earlier, so John wasn’t mad but he did wish he was strong enough to hold them down like Sherlock was able to do to him.

“You’re doing so good John. Try and take a little more. I want to feel you swallow around me, just like I did to you. Didn’t that feel good?” Sherlock was almost breathless from what John was doing to him, but the boy didn’t think he would be able to take anymore even if he wanted to, which he did, he really really did. He continued sucking, working his tongue around aimlessly and moved his hand faster over the base that he couldn’t reach, until he felt a slight pressure at the back of his head. “That’s it, open up your throat for me,” he heard as the spongy tip poked the back of his throat, forcing his eyes to squeeze shut and his throat muscles to contract violently. It took everything he had not to accidentally bite down from the sudden involuntary reaction created from the invasion.

When he tried to pull his head up to swallow the saliva his mouth was producing gallons of, the hand kept him steady but didn’t push any harder down. John began to panic, using his arms as leverage to push up but was met by Sherlock sitting up and pulling him up to the head of the bed, while his mouth was still being impaled by the man’s cock. “Whaaa vwaa Fwuuuk” John tried to yell around the flesh in his mouth, but was now lying flat on his belly, head propped up, arms locked under Sherlock’s thighs, and his face right in the man’s crotch with a hand on the back of his head and one on his convulsing throat.

Sherlock had moving into a sitting position with his back against the head board, legs spread eagle, looking down at the boy’s head in his lap, and rubbing his cock through the boy’s small throat. “That’s it, take it, I know you can John. Shhh, relax and just breathe through your nose,” he cooed gently down to John as if he wasn’t holding him down. He felt the large hand rub along his throat as the large bulge was forced farther up into his mouth. All he could see were black curls over the white skin, while the smell of sweat and musk invading his nose. John pulled his knees up to his chest to try and get more leverage to pull away from the man who was lost in lust.

Once he was in position, Sherlock grunted and pushed his cock even deeper into John’s throat. It didn’t hurt really, but his mind was yelling at him to breathe and swallow what was being forced down his throat. He realized Sherlock had come when he felt warm bitter salty liquid roll down into his stomach. After a moment, the hand holding him down released and grabbed a hold of his hair, yanking him up into a deep brutal kiss. “You are so perfect John, I love you, all mine, so perfect,” Sherlock kept chanting as he kissed all the way down the boy’s neck, holding him tightly to his pale chest.

John didn’t struggle away nor did he reciprocate as the thoughts running through his brain paralyzed him. He’d seen people give blow jobs on the telly and it was common for the top to hold the bottoms heads down but he didn’t do that to Sherlock, _did I, I don’t remember? It felt really good though._ Overall, it wasn’t horrible and now that the older man had him in an iron grip, rubbing his spine and ribs, John’s body told him everything was okay now.

“Do you want some breakfast,” Sherlock asked with his face buried in sweaty blonde hair.

“Yeah, I’m starved,” he groaned when the man lifted him off his chest and sat him on the edge of the bed. _God, is my arse always going to hurt like this? That must have been blood I saw in the water last night._

“Still sore?” Sherlock asked, wrapping an arm around the thin stomach. “I’ll let you sit on my lap while we eat. How does that sound?” John felt him nibble slightly at the side of his belly and laughed, bating the head away.  

“After breakfast we better head back to Southampton,” John pulled on his red pants and checkered sleep trousers that were lying on the floor but his shirt was nowhere to be found. The thought of leaving Sherlock left an ice cold blob in his stomach, but the relief of being away from the man calmed his over engaged brain.

“We’ll talk about it while we eat, yeah?” Sherlock smiled and pulled on his sleep trousers and a baggy grey shirt.

That was a strange answer that made the teenager take pause, but it was as if his mind wasn’t communicating to his body and he had no idea why Sherlock’s last sentence scared him so much. “Okay,” he whispered, keeping his head down and following the man down stairs into the kitchen.

“I have some scones!” Sherlock cheered and pulled out two plates, placing the larger blueberry pastry in front of John. “Eat up, I’ll pour you some milk.” He went over to the fridge and as soon as he opened it, something foul smelling hit John’s nose, making him scrunch up his face. _Nasty, something is definitely rotting in there. I just hope it’s not the milk._ “Sorry, I think I left some oranges in there too long,” the man laughed turning his back to John and pouring two glasses of milk. He put the container back into the contaminated fridge and sat down across from John, sliding a glass to the boy. “Drink up, I promise it wasn’t the milk,” he smiled and took a sip.

The scones were delicious and, to John’s relief, the milk tasted fine too. After five minutes, the plate was void of all crumbs and the milk was gone. John decided it was time to go home so he could think about what happened this weekend without those piercing eyes staring into his soul. Sometimes it seemed like Sherlock was forcing thoughts into his head, or at least making them muddled enough so it was hard to think. “If you can’t drive me home it’s no big deal. I can ride the tube if that would be easier.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Sherlock drank the last of his milk.

“Well, you didn’t seem like you wanted to drive me.”

“I don’t mind driving you. Where would you like to go?”

_What do you mean ‘where would I like to go?’_ Something tickled at the back of his brain and John identified it as danger. “I need to get home. I told my mom I would be home by five, Sherlock.”

“You are home, John,” Sherlock smiled at him like he did when they were kissing on the couch and when he looked at him naked for the first time in the shower. If it wasn’t for that smile, John would have ran for the door without a second though, but instead he only scooted his chair back from the table.

“No, my mom will worry about me if I don’t come home. We-we can still talk and stuff but my mom will come looking for me if I don’t come back.” At that point, John didn’t know if he was telling the truth or lying that he and Sherlock would still hang out after what had happened over the weekend, but he didn’t want to make the man mad.

“No she won’t, because you’ll be dead,” Sherlock’s voice was so nonchalant when he said… _wait, did he just say he’s going to kill me?_

John sprung out of his chair, grabbing the plate in his hand, just in case he needed to use it as a weapon. “Don’t come any closer,” he threatened but his voice sounded slurred for some reason and the man he was warning seemed to double.

“What?…Oh, John no. What I mean is she will think you are dead. Ha! You thought I was going to kill you? Oh, John I would never hurt you, you know that.” The man stood up and began walking towards him, with an amused smile when the teenager dropped the plate.

“Wha-what’s ha-hap-happening to-“John started to panic when his vision showed three out of focus Sherlocks coming closer to him but his legs felt like he’d just run thirty miles and were ready to collapse. He hadn’t even realized he dropped the plate.  

“I put a sedative in your milk, shh shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, rushing over to the boy when his legs finally turned to noodles and could no longer support him. John felt the ground leave him and warm hands supporting his back like iron trestles as he was carried up the stairs back to the bedroom.

Sherlock laid him down, pulling the covers up to his chin as John tried to bat the six blurry hands away from him. “Go to sleep, John. When you wake up, you’ll be a whole new person.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stockholm Syndrome anyone?
> 
> Thank you for reading and I would love to hear what you thought of this latest update(:


	10. I Got Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock ensures John will be his forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you again for all the wonderful support you have all given me during this story. 
> 
> NOTE: I have decided to make this fic into a series, which I have already set up so you should be able to bookmark or sub the tabs if you'd like because it will most likely take me a week or so to get the first chapter out on the new part. 
> 
> This chapter is Sherlock's POV, describing how he plans to keep John. This chapter took me a bit longer than normal because I did a lot of research on UK ID papers. I'm sure there are going to be a few loop holes or something I missed, so if it is a very important detail I would appreciate any and all corrections you can offer and I will fix it. However, if it is just a tiny nitpick I would still like to hear it but I can't promise I will fix it quickly(: 
> 
> Anyways, thank you so much for keeping my spirits up while writing this, you all are the reason I decided to come up with a sequel. I hope you enjoy this update!

Chapter 10 – I Got Mine

“Good night, my love,” Sherlock whispered over the unconscious body lying in his bed. The body was his now, his, and now it was time to ensure no one would ever take John away from him. The detective licked the boy’s cheek once, buried his nose in the soft blonde hair for a moment to see if the scent had changed any, and then turned off the light on his way out of the room. Sherlock had given the teenager the proper dosage of his homemade sedative, which he’d tested out on himself many times, in order keep his boy asleep for 10-15 hours. However, the detective had been planning this moment ever since he talked to the boy on the phone and knew it would only take six hours to complete his possession. 

The first order of business was to construct the suicide note of one John Hamish Watson, age fourteen. Ever since he was a boy in year two of primary school, Sherlock had become a master at handwriting forgery; stemming mainly from having to forge his mother or father’s signature or parent note when he got into trouble or didn’t want to participate in one of the school’s ridiculous field trips or projects. Now, he was able to copy any form of handwriting to the letter as long as there was a proper example for him to use. Luckily, there were at least a dozen forms with every character lying on their coffee table, all written by John.

He put on gloves, making sure to barley touch the sheet of paper as to not provide incriminating fingerprints. However, Sherlock doubted the police would suspect anything but suicide once he set the puzzle pieces into place for their little minds to find. He examined the forms one by one, in awe of how John’s personality was evident in the way his letters stood up straight, no slant left or right. _Ah, my beautiful John. So loyal and reliable._ After a few moments of taking in the graphology and style of the handwriting, Sherlock began to write as John.

**Dear Mum,**

**I know I am being selfish but I cannot live in a world that doesn’t accept me for who I am. I know it may come as a shock to you but I have never been happy. There is no point in living anymore, I’ve tried, I really have but I just cannot find happiness. My one regret is leaving you alone but the darkness has been consuming me for too long and it is too much for me to bear.**

**In the end, no one would accept me for who I was and I thought if I created a friend it might help me get through high school. It didn’t, my friend from college wasn’t real, I wish to God he was but he too was just a lie I told myself and you. I love you so much.**

**I don’t want you to have to worry about a funeral or anything, it costs too much and it’s not worth it for me. That’s why, by the time you read this message, I will have swam out into the English Channel as far as I could go. I will leave my board on the beach near the Portsmouth Pyramid Centre, so if you get it back would you please give it to Mike, I know he really likes it. Please mum, I know this is going to be hard but you have to forget about me and move on with the rest of your life and try to be happy.**

**Love always,**

**John H. Watson**

Sherlock finished up the note, looked it over to make sure every letter was perfect and then brought it into where John was still sleeping soundly. He placed his gloved hands over the boy’s soft shoulders and ran them up and down a few times, feeling the warm friction they created together. Pushing back the wonderful thought of having John drugged and pliant under him and ready for the taking, Sherlock worked meticulously placing the boy’s finger prints all over the note, the envelope, and finally pulling out the small tongue and licking the adhesive. “Good boy John,” he whispered down with a sweet smile. _Okay, maybe just a taste._ Sherlock put the boy’s suicide note on the small table so he could lie his body down completely over the small limp form on the bed.

He placed his ear to the small tan chest, listening to the heart beat that gave his possession life. Life that was now his, well, would soon be his, in every way. Yes, John would be upset at first that he wouldn’t see his mom again or his friends but he would soon learn, just like he did in the shower last night, that his Sherlock is all he needs. “Mine,” he licked over the tan neck, relishing in the sweet salty mixture that John provided for his pleasure.

Once he had his hit, the detective leapt up, pulled on some presentable clothes, and began texting a friend in his homeless network as he walked out of the flat with the note in a bag, John’s shoes, mobile, and longboard.

**Sherlock: Do you have the school paperwork?**

**Juliet: Yes, where do u want to meet?**

**Sherlock: On my way to Southampton. Meet you in Hyde Park 30 min.**

Sherlock hailed a cab and made his way to their meeting spot and began texting another contact.

**Sherlock: Do you have the new ID papers for me?**

**Tim: Yes. Meeting place?**

**Sherlock: The SouthSea Skatepark in Portsmouth. 3 hrs.**

Sherlock ran over every part of his plan a dozen times before the cabbie pulled up to Hyde Park. The detective handed him the money and began walking towards Juliet, who was sitting on a bench. “Sherlock, hi, how are you,” she chimed nervously when she saw him coming towards her.

“Fine,” he said dismissively. The sooner he got the formalities out of the way, the sooner he could go back to John so they could start their life together in peace. “Do you have the papers?”

“Yes,” she handed him a green folder in a plastic bag. “A brand new school history for John Franklin Thomas, complete with top marks, school IDs, and a clean permanent record all the way back to primary.” Sherlock smiled when he heard the name. He had been up for two nights straight trying to come up with the perfect name to replace the equally perfect name of Hamish Watson. At first, the detective thought it would be easiest to give John the last name of Holmes, but when the boy got older, how would they marry if they were seemingly related? No, it was best to identify the boy as a God Son from a long lost friend who died tragically in a fire, or at least that’s what the papers said.

“Perfect,” Sherlock grabbed the precious files and handed his minion 100 quid, with a fake smile. “I will call you when I need you again. Thank you,” and with that, Sherlock hailed another cab and was off to Southampton. The drive seemed like it only took ten minutes as he examined and memorized every aspect of John’s new identity. Straight A’s, _of course,_ no demerits, _of course,_ Uni bound, _of course._ Sherlock ran his hand over the parchment, knowing that this was John’s true life, not the simple existence he lived in Southampton. No, John was just wondering around waiting for his lover to come along and save him. And save him, was what Sherlock was doing while his boy slept peacefully in his new home, his real home.

“We’re here mate,” the cabby spoke, annoyed that he had to drive so far.

“Thank you,” Sherlock tipped the man generously because he was a generous man. He grabbed the shoes, mobile, longboard, and note, then hopped out of the car, the smell of salt water filling his nose.

“Sherlock,” his contact yelled. The homeless man, who really didn’t look like a homeless man at all, was sitting by a tree just outside the skate park entrance. “How are you?”

“Fine, do you have what I requested?”

“Yes, it took me a while to find the right people but with the money you wired they were more than willing to put a rush on the papers,” he laughed and handed over a large binder with John Thomas’ birth certificate, passport, and his parent’s death information. _Perfect._

“Good, so everything has been taken care of, correct? I’m not going to find out a month from now that these documents are just for show. You know how I don’t like surprises, Timothy.” Sherlock glared at the man, who immediately paled and unconsciously took a step away from the detective. _Smart man_. Sherlock knew it was important for the people who worked for him to be reminded who was the boss every once and a while.

“N-no sir, all these documents have been guaranteed to be authentic. They do all the data entry and inside work to ensure that John Franklin Thomas is a real boy,” the man tried to break the tension with his joke but his laugh came out like a pained sob.

“Very well, now I need you to take these,” Sherlock handed him the longboard, mobile and shoes, “to the beach, just in front of the Pyramid Centre. It is important no one notices you, so act very natural and don’t talk to anyone. Is that understood?”

“Y-yes, sir, be a ghost, got it,” he grabbed the items and scurried off to plant the evidence.

_One last stop._ Sherlock pulled out his mobile to see where John’s mother was. The little green blip was at the WestQuay Centre, so Sherlock grabbed one last cab and got off a half a mile down the road from John’s old house. As he walked up, the neighborhood was still as empty as it was the last time he broke in, as if they were all helping him get John away because they too knew this wasn’t the place for him. He slipped the note, without touching it, gently into the post box and made his way, one last time, into the Watson home.

It took no time at all to retrieve the cameras he’d placed in John’s old room, _won’t be needing those anymore, now will we John?_ He paused in the room momentarily, imagining all the things John had done in this room and how now he would be doing them in their bed, with Sherlock. Just the thought of it, made a shiver run up his spine and his cock twitch; it was time to get home to John.

He locked the house back up and ran down the street to catch another cab. He was done, it was done, John was his now and no would even dare try to take him away. This time, the cab ride seemed to take forever. Thoughts of John filled his mind as he ached for his next taste and oh how it would be brilliant. He had to be there when John woke up; there was no debating it, no compromising. His John was about to be born and Sherlock could just imagine the look in his eyes, the first look of John Franklin Thomas looking up at his new owner. _This must be how new fathers feel in the waiting room,_ Sherlock thought as the cabbie made another turn. Yes, he needed to get home right now.

When they pulled up to Baker Street, Sherlock threw the money at the cabbie and raced up the stairs into their flat. He swore the place smelled different, sweeter, better, now that everything had clicked into place. His coat was on the floor in an instant, his shirt, trousers, and pants made a breadcrumb trail leading from the front door to their bed, where he now loomed over the still sleeping form. “My sleeping beauty,” Sherlock smiled and kissed the boy softly on the lips, just like the fairytales.

Sherlock crawled onto the bed, pulling the covers back, exposing his prize with a gleam in his eye. When he noticed John had a slight smile on his face, his cock hardened almost painfully fast. John wanted his lover even in his sleep, and Sherlock would never deny his boy what he craved. So, he straddled the thin hips, leaned back and began stoking himself over John.

Grunts filled the room as he came closer to the edge just from the smell and look of the boy below him. Finally, he gave a rough stoke, thrust his hips forward and came all over John’s chest, the white pearly strips matched perfectly with the lightly sun kissed skin under him. “Mine,” Sherlock panted as he massaged his seed into the teenager’s chest. Even going as far as to trace an ‘SH’ into the white liquid that made its home right over John’s heart. That’s where Sherlock was now and that’s where he would stay, “forever.”

He laid himself over his boy, pulling John’s arm over his neck and wrapping his arm over the small chest, intertwining their legs and pressing his nose into the sensitive skin of the lightly haired armpit of his lover. “I love you, my John,” he whispered, inhaling deeply enough that the sweet odors filled his nose and blanketing his mind until he fell asleep holding John Franklin Thomas.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was having a lot of trouble writing the suicide note, I don't know why I just was, so I looked up a few examples and it just broke my heart. I know this is probably not needed but I felt like I should add this anyway. 
> 
> US Suicide prevention hotline number: 1-800-273-8255  
> or if you are in another country please visit this website to find your suicide hotline number: http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! If you liked what you read, come check me out on Tumblr http://nightfall24.tumblr.com/ to see the latest updates on my stories.


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